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Lilian Boyd Glanced Around the Station With a Kind of 
Joyous Surprise and Wonder 

(Chap. 2. Girls at Mt. Morris) 


THE GIRLS AT 
MOUNT MORRIS 




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BY 

AMANDAM.DOUGLAS 

AUTHOR OF "SHERBURNE 
SERIES”'A LITTLE GIRL SERIES: 
"A MODERN CINDERELLA”. 

ETC. 


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M. A. DONOHUE & CO. 
CH ICAGO 

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Copyright 1914 
M. A. Donohue & Company 
Chicago 



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JUN 13 19/4 


© Cl. A 3 7 4 4 4 0 


The Girls at Mt. Morris 





Contents 

CHAPTER PAGE 

1 Looking the Future in the Face . 1 

2 A New Outlook 22 

3 Food for Consideration .... 39 

4 The Grace of Endeavor ... 58 

5 Zaidee 77 

6 An Escapade and What Came of It 100 

7 A Supreme Moment 118 

8 A Strange Confession .... 134 

9 Whose Child Am I? 154 

10 Unraveling Tangled Threads . . 171 

11 Standing Up to the Mark . . . 186 

12 Oh, Will I Be Welcome? . ( . 204 

13 A Mother’s Love 220 

14 Going Out of the Old Life . . 244 

15 Your True Home 267 

16 Out of Her Loyalty . . . . . 287 



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The Girls at Mt. Morris 


CHAPTER I 

LOOKING THE FUTURE IN THE FACE 

Lilian Boyd entered the small, rather shabby 
room, neat, though everything was well worn. 
Her mother sat by a little work table busy with 
some muslin sewing and she looked up with a 
weary smile. Lilian laid a five-dollar bill on 
the table. 

“Madame Lupton sails on Saturday,” she 
said. “Oh how splendid it must be to go to 
Paris! Mrs. Cairns is to finish up; there is 
only a little to do, but Madame said every- 
thing you did was so neat, so well finished that 
she should be very glad to have you by the 
first of October.” 

The mother sighed. “Meanwhile there is 
almost two months to provide for, and I had 
to break in the last hundred dollars to pay the 
rent. Oh Lilian! I hardly know which way to 
turn. I am not strong any more, I have made 
every effort to — ” and her voice broke, “but 
I am afraid you will have to give up school.” 

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. 


1 


2 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


“Oh, mother, don’ t ! don’ t ! ’ ’ the girl implored . 
“I suppose it was selffsh of me to think of such 
a thing and you couldn’t go through two 
years more. You are not as well as you were 
a year ago. I’ll see Sally Meeks tonight and 
take the place in the factory. I only have to 
give two weeks and then begin on five dollars 
a week. It will be better than the sewing.” 

Lilian Boyd stood up very straight and de- 
termined, though her heart sank within her. 
To give up her cherished wish, to join the great 
army of shop girls with no hope of advance- 
ment in the future! She was almost sixteen; 
she had been two years in the High School and 
was a favorite scholar. Two years more and 
she could teach. It was in the walk of life that 
she so ardently desired. Tall for her age, vig- 
orous, with courage and earnestness in every 
line of the face that was fine, now, to the casual 
observer and might develop into beauty. It 
was spirited, eager, with a clear complexion, 
deep blue eyes that in some moods seemed 
black, while the hair was light and abundant. 
The brows and lashes were much darker. The 
features were regular, the chin broad and cleft, 
but it was the courage and uplift in the face 
that gave it character. 

The mother was so different. It was not 



“Madame Luptru Sails on Saturday.” she said 

(Chap. 1. Girls at Mt. Morris) 




Looking the Future in the Face 3 

altogether a weak face but intensely common- 
place; the sort of woman who has no ambitions 
beyond the ordinary round of life. Was it 
the old story of the eagle in the dove’s nest? 

“You are very tired/’ she began, presently. 
“Lie down on the lounge while I get supper.” 

Mrs. Boyd was still crying softly. Lilian 
kissed her, threw a light shawl over her shoul- 
ders, then lighted the gas burner and set on the 
kettle. She would run out and get a chop for 
her mother, some for breakfast as well. Yes, 
she must begin to be the care taker, she had 
been so engrossed with her studies and giving 
her help with the sewing they did for a dress- 
making establishment that she had hardly 
noted. She swallowed over a great lump in 
her throat, it was a bitter sacrifice and yet 
she must make it. She could not even study 
during the evenings for she must help with the 
sewing, and if her mother should be ill! 

The little supper was tastily arranged, the 
tea and the chop had an unwonted fragrance. 

“I’m awfully sorry,” said the mother, “but 
Sally says it is a nice shop and the boss is 
particular about the kind of girls he has, and 
to think Sally’s earning nine dollars a week 
now!” 

“Yes, Sally’s a nice pleasant girl,” that was 


The Girls of Mt. Morris 


4 

all she could trust her voice to say. 

“And it will be company back and forth. 
Maybe — sometime — ’ 9 

Oh, had she been right in that long ago 
time? It seemed ages to her, so much had 
happened since, and she thought she could 
not live without the child, but after all the 
girl was not of her kind. What if she had done 
her a great wrong! She had never been an 
introspective woman, her life was mostly on 
the surface, with commonplace aims and de- 
sires. 

The kitchen was small, the middle room not 
much larger, but it had two nice windows, the 
front was on a much neglected street with a 
big carpenter’s shop across the way. They 
used that for a sleeping room and it had in it 
the remnant of better days. The sewing room 
was much more quiet. 

Lilian cleared away the things. Mrs. Boyd 
went back to the lounge. Then the girl went 
down the street. She had best make her sac- 
rifice at once, it was not a subject to ponder 
over and she realized it had been a big black 
cloud hanging about her the last month. 

Sally’s mother sat out on the small porch 
gossiping with a neighbor. 

“Oh, Lily Boyd,” she exclaimed. “Sally 


Looking the Future in the Face 5 

was coming up on Saturday but she had to fly 
round like a bee in a flower garden. It want 
her turn to go to the Rest House, but the other 
girl couldn’t — sickness at home. So Sally went 
in her place. Splendid, isn’t it! And board 
only two dollars a week. I tell Sally she’s got 
the nicest boss we’ve ever heard about. 
She’ll be home Sat’day night and tell you all 
about it.” 

“Yes, I want to see her. No, I can’t stay. 
Oh, mother does not seem very well. Good- 
night.” 

Lilian did not go straight home. This was 
the old part of the town there were no real 
cottages and little gardens fragrant with flow- 
ers, but people were huddled in them. There 
would presently be factories and tenement 
houses. 

She was making a sharp, desperate fight. 
Strong natures have to. Why was she born 
with these ambitions and aims and capabilities 
and the ardent desire to do something? All 
girls did not have them. Some in the class 
laughed and made merry without a thought of 
the future. Some expected to teach and ‘ just 
hated it.’ She would have beensoglad. Well 
the dream must be given up — at least for years. 


6 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


It would be horrible to count on her mother’s 
death for freedom. She shuddered. 

They went to bed, but neither of them slept 
until after midnight. Now and then Lilian 
heard a soft sob. She felt that she ought to 
comfort her mother, but what could she say? 
Since she had been growing up she had become 
aware of a barrier between them. Mrs. Boyd 
had loved her fervently as a little girl, she had 
not taken any special pride in her entering the 
High School with such a fine record. She was 
in no sense an ambitious or an intellectual 
woman and the girl’s vigor and intentness 
sometimes frightened her. She should have 
been in some other sphere. 

Lilian sank into a sort of dull apathy, ques- 
tioning everything as youth often does under 
a great disappointment. What was the use 
of living if one could never attain the things 
one desired? She was not like Sally nor 
dozens of other girls. Their commonplace 
lives would be martyrdom to her. 

So they both slept late. Lilian prepared the 
simple breakfast. 

“Perhaps it would be a good thing to get 
out last winter’s clothes and see what can be 
fixed over,” said the mother. “But you have 
grown so much this year, Lilian.” 


Looking the Future in the Face 7 

Oh, if clothes mattered, if anything mat- 
tered! There was the postman’s whistle. 

Quite a thick letter for her mother in a neat 
lady’s hand. 

“Why that’s funny,” and a smile brightened 
the girl’s face. 

Mrs. Boyd glanced it over. Why it’s from 
Mrs. Searing. She was here last March, you 
know. She has always taken such an interest 
in you, and — oh read it, read it aloud. My 
head is so bad this morning.” 

She began to cry again. 

Helen took the letter. The first page was 
full of friendly interest and then she branched 
off into a delightful visit she had been making 
at a very pretty place, one of the old fashioned 
aristocratic towns where a relative kept a 
select and high class Seminary for young 
ladies. She had found her in something of a 
quandry. The woman who had taken charge 
of the bed and table line and a sort of general 
seamstress had suddenly married, and it was 
necessary to fill her place before school opened. 
She wanted a middle aged person with some 
experience who was neat and careful. She 
would have a pleasant room and the duties 
would not be arduous. There was a house- 
keeper and several maids beside the cook. . 


8 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


“So,” wrote Mrs. Searing, “I told her about 
Lilian, remembering you had said you were 
afraid you could not keep her in school to 
finish, and her ambition to be a teacher. She 
was wonderfully interested and I told her 
somewhat of your misfortunes and struggles. 
So she proposes that you shall accept this po- 
sition and that Lilian shall take a sort of 
supervision of some of the younger pupils and 
go on with her own education. Mrs. Bar- 
rington has been very kind and helpful to 
several young girls and I know Lilian will ad- 
mire her extremely.” 

The girl sprang up with a glad cry and flung 
her arms around her mother’s neck. 

“Oh, let us go, let us go! Why it seems like 
a miracle,” and then she was crying, too, from 
an overwrought heart. 

Presently she resumed the letter. They 
would have a pleasant room together, consid- 
erable leisure, and there would be music, a 
fine library beside that in the town and the 
society was charming. The mother’s salary 
was a very fair one and in another year the 
daughter might be able to earn something for 
herself. Mrs. Searing really urged the matter. 
Would Mrs. Boyd write at once to Mrs. Bar- 
rington? 


Looking the Future in the Face 9 

“Oh, mother, to think! No rent to pay, no 
bills to meet, no bother of cooking and house 
keeping. It seems too good to be true. Let 
me read it over again lest I must have skipped 
something.” 

It seemed more attractive at the second 
perusal. Lilian’s heart beat with unwonted 
emotion. Mrs. Boyd leaned back in her chair, 
paler than ever but not quite so depressed. 

“You must answer it, Lilian ; I couldn’t make 
it sound right, and you can tell her about your- 
self; I don’t understand all these things. I 
never had any high up education. People 
were not thinking of it then.” 

Lilian was glad to do it. She knew a per- 
son of refinement and education would see 
what her mother missed and perhaps doubt her 
ability. She made a draft and read it aloud 
to Mrs. Boyd. 

“It sounds beautiful; I couldn’t have done 
it.” 

Was it education that gave one the power, 
the sense of what was appropriate, or some 
underlying fact that she dared not face? What 
if it had been a great mistake in that far back 
time? Could it ever be remedied? 

“Oh, mother, I thought last night that I 
shouldn’t want to live if I could never reach 


io The Girls at Mt. Morris 


any of my aims. When I hear delicious music 
I feel it in my very finger ends. When I read 
about pictures and statuary and magnificent 
churches I can almost see them, and a rift in 
the sky, an autumnal branch of red brown 
leaves, nooks that I have seen now and then, 
looks that are grand and high and beautiful 
stir my very soul. Where did I get this from? 
Was my father — ” 

She looked really beautiful standing there, 
her eyes full of inspiration, her cheeks aglow, 
her scarlet lips quivering. Mrs. Boyd trem- 
bled with a mysterious chill, and a shiver went 
over her. 

“Oh, no, no! he was a plain man, a good, 
honest man” — her voice failed. 

“And if he had lived we should have been 
very happy, I know; and I did like the board- 
ing house better. I wish we could have kept 
it, but to sit here day after day and not see 
any way out of the narrow distasteful life, feeling 
as if you could fly — am I wicked? Poor little 
mother do I frighten you? Oh, don’t cry, I 
am going to be a good daughter and not wish 
for impossible things if this comes true.” 

She clasped her mother’s hands that were 
seldom idle so long. How thin they were with 
dullish, prominent veins. The mother looked 


Looking the Future in the Face 1 1 

past her child rather than at her, but she could 
feel the glowing, spirited force like a ghdst out 
of the past that shook its upbraiding finger at 
her. She leaned her face on Lilian’s breast. 

“Poor mother, dear mother,” in a sweet 
comforting tone. “I’m afraid I haven’t always 
been a loving daughter, but whatever comes 
we will share it together. In a few years I will 
be working for you, that is the splendid side to 
this offer.” 

“But — if you shouldn’t be — some girls, 
young ladies think they must draw a line — ” 

“Oh, I shall not mind that if I suit Mrs. 
Barrington. I shall go to work and to study, and 
when I reach some high place in teaching, I 
shall smile over those petty things. A boy 
gets praised when he works for his education, 
why shouldn’t a girl?” 

Then she brought out her paper and wrote 
her letter. She wished her stationery had 
been finer, but she would not spend the money 
to gratify pride. Then she went and posted 
it and bought some little luxuries for dinner. 
After they had partaken of it she made her 
mother lie down and take a good rest while she 
went over some of her school books and worked 
out several problems. 

Yet the waiting was very wearing. Sally 


12 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


came after having had a splendid time at the 
Rest House and said she, Lilian, could come in 
two weeks. She wrote a letter to her mothers 
friend Mrs. Searing who was most happy that 
they had accepted the position, and enclosed 
a ten-dollar note to buy some of the little 
things young girls long for. 

They took out last winter’s clothing, but 
alas, it was outgrown and well worn. 

“When we hear you must have a new out- 
fit,” the mother commented. 

“But it seems dreadful to break into your 
last resource,” said the girl regretfully. 

“But I shall be able to replace it from my 
salary, for as you said we shall have no ex- 
pense in the future for living. Oh, what a 
blessed relief! Mrs. Searing has been our 
good providence.” 

“And you are quite happy about it?” 

“Yes, oh yes!” 

The mother watched her elastic step, her 
proud carriage, the attractive face that had so 
much vigor and purpose. Oh, she was not of 
her kind. At times the thought was terrify- 
ing. 

Then the longed for letter came. It began: 

“My dear Miss Boyd. I was much pleased 
with your letter and the consideration evinced 


Looking the Future in the Face 1 3 

for your mother. I hope the change will ben- 
efit her. Mount Morris is considered a very 
healthy place and it is certainly beautiful. 
I hope you wall both be very happy here, and 
you seem not only an ambitious girl but 
quite willing to work for the things you de- 
sire. ’ 1 Then follows a description of the school 
and the duties, and what would be expected 
of the mother, the routes of travel and several 
time tables enclosed. Mrs. Barrington would 
like them to come as soon after the 20th of 
August as they could. 

Lilian could not conceal her joy. They 
shopped a little, finding some bargains from 
early spring left-overs. They packed up a few 
things and disposed of the rest. Lilian's few 
friends were surprised. Sally hoped she would 
not be disappointed. 

“Mount Morris has such a pretty sound,” 
exclaimed Lilian, “and I think Mrs. Barring- 
ton is a tall and stately woman with the grand 
beauty you sometimes see in a picture. I want 
her complexion to be lovely and her hair snowy 
white, and her voice like the music that makes 
you feel sorry when it stops. I want to like 
her very much, and make myself useful to 
her.” 


14 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“I am quite sure she will like you,” returned 
the mother. 

Lilian felt as if she could dance and sing. 
Was there such a thing as being too glad and 
happy? To go out of this poor old life with 
its pinches, and the sordid economies to a lovely 
home! She read Mrs. Searing’s letter over 
and over again. These were the things that 
appealed to her, that she enjoyed in every 
fibre of her being. She glanced at her mother. 
Why the face was almost stolid! Oh, that was 
wicked! She had been so good and kind. 
Was it not the hard grind of poverty and hope- 
less work, never making any advance, that 
quenched the vitality of soul and brain? She 
must make her mark before hope dropped out 
of the years. She had watched her teachers 
in a curious manner, though she was too young 
to understand analysis of character. Some 
were favorites, some had favorites, girls who 
were of the noted families or had prosperity 
back of them. There were others, one she had 
liked very much who seemed to study with 
you, to help you to understand. Her classes 
always had many of the finest pupils. That 
was the kind of teacher she meant to be. 

Of course there had been slights, sometimes 
sneers. These lilies of the field in their fine 


Looking the Future in the Face 15 

array longed to crowd their mates out in the 
arid, dusty highway. She stood her ground 
and she was a fine scholar. She was helpful, 
too; she had no sneers or cruel laughs over the 
blunders of others. 

A few of her mates were truly sorry to part 
with her and surprised to find she was going to 
a high-up Seminary to be trained for a teacher. 
The teacher she liked so much was away on 
her vacation. 

So they left the old noisy, dirty factory city. 
It was Lilian’s first journey in the great world. 
And oh how large and beautiful it was! They 
passed thriving towns, beautiful villages, great 
fields of waving corn, fruit orchards, then 
towns again, rivers, lakes, high hills cleft by 
rocky passes that sparkled in places as if set 
by gems. Then stretches so serene so instinct 
with fairy beauty she drew long breaths and 
dreamed of delightful futures, and what is a 
girl of sixteen filled with a love of beauty and 
ambition worth if she cannot dream some 
grand ventures. 

Mrs. Boyd was not interested in the scenery. 
She gave a quiet assent to the girl’s enthusi- 
asms and presently Lilian ceased to appeal. 
It was so when she had read stirring prose or 
exquisite poetry aloud. 


1 6 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


Mrs. Boyd was going over her past life. It 
had been much in her mind the last year. A 
commonplace factory girl earning her living, 
an orphan at that. Her dream was a lover, 
presently, marriage, a little home, and keeping 
it tidy, and babies of her very own. The lover 
came, a nice steady machinist with a little 
education, saving up money, marriage and 
the home of a few rooms, buying this and that 
of the simplest kind, and then the baby, a nice, 
plump, blue-eyed boy who grew apace and was 
the delight of both. What more could she 
ask for? That was certainly content. 

He took out a small life insurance, though 
it almost broke her heart to think of his dying. 
And she never dreamed of the baby. He was 
so well and strong and joyous. Yet a few 
days’ illness swept him out of the world, and 
almost broke their hearts. Then a little girl 
came. She liked girls the best, they were 
more to the mother. She could make their 
clothes, they could go out together. Then 
lovers would come and marriage, and all the 
everyday interest of new lives. 

One sad day James Boyd was brought home 
dead. Something had gone wrong with the 
machinery and before it could be stopped his 
life had been beaten out. Neighbors were 


Looking the Future in the Face 17 

kind to her, the employer took charge of the 
funeral, but there were other sorrows and losses 
in the world. 

She had one brother of whom she had seen 
very little, as he had gone West when a mere 
boy. He had a big farm and five children 
and he wrote for her to come out, as his wife 
had recently died. The steady home looked 
so inviting. Yes, she would go. 

The life insurance had been well invested by 
a friend of her husbands*. 

“Don’t disturb it,” he counseled. “You 
may not like it there and want to come back, 
and your brother may marry again. There’s 
enough to give you a nice start in something.” 

If she had never gone! How many times 
she had wondered! For midway in the jour- 
ney there was a horrible accident in a small 
town where two roads crossed. The child 
flew out of her arms and she lay unconscious. 
There was no hospital. Kindly neighbors 
took in the wounded and the dead. 

When she came to herself one morning the 
child was fretting and she nursed it. She 
could not remember distinctly, but they were 
both alive and she gave thanks as she hugged 
the child to her heart. 

“Will you have some breakfast? You had 


1 8 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


a good natural sleep last night, and the baby 
is all right. The other poor baby was killed 
and its mother is dying, maybe dead now. 
There was so much confusion. The baggage 
car was wrecked and burned, the trunks lost, 
and it seems so hard to get on track of rela- 
tives. Some cannot be identified. 

The listener shuddered. Then the break- 
fast came and she ate it with an eager appe- 
tite. 

“You might try getting up by and by. The 
railroad company are doing all they can and 
sending passengers to their destination.” 

“When was it?” in a tremulous tone. 

“Two days ago; well, it will be three tonight. 
It was hardly midnight when it happened. I 
never was in an accident before. It was 
awful.” 

Emma Boyd sat up in the bed and took the 
child in her arms, studying it earnestly. Oh, 
how sweet and rosy it was with its dimpled 
mouth and its fringe of soft hair. Then she 
laid it down and crept out of bed, feeling rather 
shaky, but having the use of all her limbs. 
There was the dress hanging on her chair. 
She wondered what would be done. Should 
she go on? 

There was another pocket in the side of her 


Lookingthe Future in the Face 19 

skirt and she felt for that. There was the re- 
mainder of her trip ticket and some money. 
She had only put a small amount in her satchel 
and that was safe as well. Rescuers had been 
honest. Was it a token that she should go 
on? 

The official was in that afternoon and made 
her a general allowance, she thought, for her 
losses. There would be a through train at 
nine the next morning if she was able to go. 

“Could I see the — the other lady. How 
was the baby hurt?” 

“Oh, it was all crushed. The mother was 
killed. One of the passengers recognized her 
and the lady, and though you were stunned for 
a long while you came partly to, and called 
for your baby. So we brought it, and al- 
though you were not quite rational you were 
so happy with it and improved rapidly. 
You’ve been fortunate, ma’am.” 

“Yes,” with a queer, frightened sound. 

“She’s a beautiful woman and belongs to the 
quality, but her hip is broken and her back 
twisted, and there’s something hurt in her 
head. She can’t live — we thought her dead 
in the night. It’s a blessing the poor baby has 
gone.” 

She lay like marble. A beautiful woman, 


20 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


truly. The eyelids with their long lashes 
looked as if they were carven. There was 
only an infrequent sign of respiration. 

“We hope we are on the track of some one 
belonging to her. The doctors want her 
moved to the hospital.” 

The next morning Emma Boyd journeyed 
out to her brother’s. A coarse, common, 
loud voiced farmer, rough and unkempt and 
five unruly children. She was appalled, and 
a dreary stretch of prairie land with hardly a 
neighbor in sight. Why she had been crazy 
to come! and she found farm work quite too 
hard for her. She had better be housemaid at 
Laconia, or go in the mills again. And when 
her brother found she had a little money he 
was eager to get hold of it. Yes, she had bet- 
ter return to her native town, especially as 
her brother was meaning to marry again. 

So she came back to Laconia which was a 
manufacturing town with iron mines at its 
elbow. There were varying fortunes as there 
often is with the poor. Mill work when she 
had to leave the child alone, then a boarding 
house which really prospered, but was sold 
with some other property for a big factory. 
Then housekeeping for a nervous invalid 
wife, and here she had met Mrs. Searing who 


Lookingthe Future in the Face 21 

had proved a true friend. After that sewing, 
making skirts for a dressmaker and working 
at childrens' clothes. When it was dull times 
they drew on the little fund. The girl was 
ambitious and had mapped out her own life, 
different from what her mother had planned. 
They loved each other but it was as if two 
foreign natures were trying to assimilate and 
there was no conformable ground for perfect 
harmony. Yes, she would take this last step 
for the girl's sake; she owed it to her. 


CHAPTER II 


A NEW OUTLOOK 

Lilian Boyd glanced around the station at 
Mount Morris with a kind of joyous surprise 
and wonder. The beautiful town with its 
straight streets, some of them with a narrow 
park in the centre, houses that were palatial 
to her inexperienced eyes, with terraced lawns, 
wide porches, graceful shrubbery and a pro- 
fusion of flowers. True, the station was quite 
at one side and a little farther down the road 
crossed the river that went meandering along, 
too winding and shallow for business purposes. 
Opposite there was a succession of wooded 
hills with here and there a stately residence. 

“How beautiful, mother !” Lilian cried, 
moved in every pulse of her being, her eyes 
lustrous with tears, her lips quivering. 

The beauty did not so move the mother. 
She was embarrassed and shrank when the 
coachman with an authorative air approached 
them. 

“Mrs. Boyd?” tentatively. There had been 
but few passengers and they had gone their 
way. 

She glanced timidly at Lilian who answered 
for her. 


22 


A New Outlook 


23 

“Give me your checks, please, and I will 
order the trunks sent up.” 

“There is only one,” in a deprecating tone. 

Lilian was glad she had insisted on a nice 
new trunk. 

“This way please,” and he took the girl's 
satchel. Mrs. Boyd followed rather than led, 
but her daughter stood aside so that she should 
be assisted in first. 

“What a beautiful town!” she exclaimed in- 
voluntarily. She had a feeling that they were 
recovering from a reverse of fortune and this 
was their rightful place. Then she smiled at 
the absurdity. 

Mount Morris Seminary was rather at the 
lower part of the town, and along level stretched 
between that and the river, broken by a few 
clumps of shrubbery. The house was a hand- 
some old style building, colonial in its aspect 
with its broad piazza and fluted columns go- 
ing up to the second story. 

There was an imposing entrance, but the 
porte cochere was at the side where the wide 
screen door showed a sort of reception hall, 
furnished with willow and splint belongings, a 
table with magazines and papers and two great 
jars of ferns. 

A tidy maid received them. “Would they 


24 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

please be seated, Mrs. Barrington would be 
down in a moment.” 

Lilian drew a long breath of rapture. To 
live in a place like this! To wander in the 
beautiful garden, to work and study in such 
inspiring environments. Yes, she had come 
to work as well. She had been too young to 
discriminate, but in an instant she seemed to 
realize how bitter the struggle with poverty 
and discouragement had been, the hurry with 
hardly an hour’s real enjoyment. No wonder 
it had made her mother worn and hesitating, 
fearful, and here everything was so leisurely 
aspected. 

She heard the soft trail of a gown over the 
stairs and rose in eager expectancy. 

Mrs. Barrington was a handsome woman at 
sixty, tall and straight, with a gracious pres- 
ence. Her hair was snowy white as the girl 
had hoped and lay in loose waves about her 
forehead. Her dark eyes were not easily 
evaded, but her manner of smiling serenity 
was in itself a welcome. 

“I am afraid it has been a long and tiresome 
journey in this warm weather, but a few days’ 
rest will restore you I hope. You look very 
delicate, Mrs. Boyd.” 

She gave the hand a friendly pressure. 


A New Outlook 


25 


“Mother had so much to do before we 
started,” explained Lilian, “and the change — ” 

“And the parting with old friends,” with her 
sympathetic smile. “I hope you will soon feel 
at home and like us all. Mrs. Searing gave 
you both such an excellent recommendation, 
and I confess I take a warm interest in girls 
who are eager for advancement. Now allow 
me to show you to your room and shall I send 
you up some tea? That is a rather pleasant 
English fashion, I am glad you came so 
promptly for my housekeeper has gone on her 
vacation and we shall have the better chance 
to get acquainted.” 

“Oh, thank you,” said Lilian warmly. 

They followed her up the stairs where a 
cross hall led to a wing. The room was large 
with two single beds, the windows in white 
drapery, a capacious bureau, a dressing table, 
a washing stand in a recess, a writing desk and 
some book shelves. It looked so cozy and 
inviting. 

“I will send up the tea, and I think your 
mother had better take a rest. If you like 
to come down you will find me in the hall.” 

“Thank you,” she replied. “I shall be glad 
to come.” 


26 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


She took her mother’s bonnet and wrap and 
placed her in the rocking chair. 

“Oh, isn’t this a splendid closet? It’s like 
another room. We are going to be so happy 
here; I feel it in every pulse. Heaven bless 
Mrs. Searing for finding us this shelter. Now 
drink this cup of tea. Thank you,” to the 
maid. 

It was reviving. 

Lilian brushed out her dress and smoothed 
her hair. Her coat had left some wrinkles in 
her shirtwaist, but she stretched and patted 
them out. Then when she had seen her 
mother comfortable on the bed, she came down. 
Even the little freshening made her look 
bright and rosy and her eyes were vivid with 
the light of pleasure. 

Mrs. Barrington had a bit of fancy work in 
her hands which were white and shapely. 
She studied the young girl. It seemed to call 
up something from the long past years that 
eluded and yet piqued her. How different she 
was from the mother. 

“Have you always lived in that western 
town, Laconia, I believe it is, and was it your 
mother’s birthplace?” 

“Yes, I am quite sure. I was away once as 
a baby. Mother went to her brother’s after 



She Studied the Young Girl 

(Chap. 2. Girls at Mt. Morris) 










































































A New Outlook 


27 


father died but did not like it, and Laconia is 
an ugly manufacturing town of smoke and 
grime, but it is said to have a fine High School. 
Of course there are some rich manufacturers.” 

“How long were you in it?” 

“Two years, and I was fairly broken hearted 
at the thought of not completing the course, 
but mother wasn’t strong as she had been, 
and” — yes, she would be bravely honest — “we 
were poor, mother’s little money was almost 
spent. Boys supported themselves while they 
are studying, why shouldn’t girls?” 

Oh, where had she seen just that proud up- 
lifting look! It puzzled the lady. 

“I am always pleased to help an ambitious 
girl along, and you have a dignity which will 
be a great aid in teaching. Mrs. Searing said 
that was your desire.” 

“I love to study. I think I shall love to 
teach, and sometime I hope to go to college.” 

“I think you will work your way there. 
What branches were you in?” 

Lilian was very frank. She showed that 
she was a thorough student. History was 
one of her delights. Latin was the only 
language admitted until the third year, and 
in mathematics she seemed well grounded. 

“I want some one to take charge of a few 


2 8 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


of the younger classes and be of service in the 
study hour from eight to nine. I think you 
will fit in admirably, but do you think your 
mother is quite strong enough?” — and she 
paused. 

“Oh, she is used to sewing of all kinds. She 
is very tired now and I think she has been 
worried all the time lest something should go 
wrong with this nice offer. You see sewing is 
not very profitable ordinarily unless you can 
do high up dressmaking or are forewoman in 
some factory, and I couldn’t sew for a living. 
It is one thing over and over. You are never 
learning anything new, broadening out, en- 
joying the wisdom of the master minds, the 
beautiful poetry, the grand philosophies. Oh, 
am I a very romantic or conceited girl?” and 
she paused with a bright flush. 

“You are meant for a scholar.” 

Just that instant the trunk came and Lilian 
excused herself and went up with it. Her 
mother was up and looked rested. 

“And please put on that black and white 
lawn, even if it is a little crumpled, and my 
white batiste always shakes out. It is nice 
if it isn’t very fine.” 

The bell sounded and they went down. The 
table was laid in the pretty little tea room. 


A New Outlook 


29 


Lilian ate and drank with a sensation of de- 
light. The china was so delicate, the table 
so beautifully arranged, the serving so perfect. 
Often in reading a story Lilian had fancied 
herself the heroine and enjoyed the feast. 

The child has much finer breeding than the 
mother, Mrs. Barrington mused. She almost 
fancied she detected something furtive about 
Mrs. Boyd. Was she being won by the girl's 
proud face to the detriment of the mother? 
It seemed to her that Mrs. Boyd stood in awe 
of her daughter. 

Afterward they went to the parlor which was 
a fine large room splendidly furnished, Lilian 
thought. There was a grand piano, an organ, 
two beautiful marbles, vases and pictures. 
There was a wide hall that was like another 
room. Here on the west side was the school 
and recitation rooms, the girl's dining room 
and a commodious kitchen. 

“Will you go up stairs?” asked Mrs. Bar- 
rington. 

Lilian answered eagerly, Mrs. Boyd fol- 
lowed. 

Over this side were the dormitories and 
baths. Some rooms accommodated two beds, 
others only one. They were neat and pleas- 
ant and had been lately put in order. 


30 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“I do not care for more than twenty board- 
ing pupils/’ explained Mrs. Barrington. “That 
makes a nice family with sufficient variety of 
character. I am much interested in the de- 
velopment of girls, and the town has nothing 
detrimental in it. We have a fine music hall 
where there are concerts and lectures, occa- 
sionally a play, and a nice library. The walks 
and drives about are beautiful.” 

The hall was not so wide up here. There 
were two entrances to the family side, the one 
to Mrs. Barrington’s rooms which was divided 
by a short hall from those of the assistants. 
Two of the teachers lived at the school, 
though one of them had a room where she 
could be in touch with the girls. 

When they reached her room Mrs. Boyd 
said — 

“If you don’t mind I will retire. I am so 
little used to long journeys that this has 
fatigued me. No, Lilian you need not stay. 
I shall not want anything. By morning I 
shall be rested,” and she waved her away. 

“Are you quite sure?” asked the girl, “and 
you will not be lonely?” 

“Oh no, I shall enjoy the quiet.” 

“Are you fond of music? asked Mrs. Bar- 
rington. “Shall I play a little for you?” 


A New Outlook 


3i 


“Oh, that would be delightful. I have 
heard very little that might be called refined 
music.” 

Then she knew the difference. 

She was charmed, though the hostess played 
mostly the simpler things. She thought she 
could have listened all night. 

A night’s rest refreshed Mrs. Boyd very 
much and the certainty that Lilian had found 
a good friend. For she knew she could not 
stand the struggle much longer. She was 
really worn out. 

Her duties were explained in a very kindly 
manner. There were the linen closets at 
hand, the bedding that she was to deal out as 
it was needed, the table napery. What she 
did for the girls was quite her own affairs. 

“And you must not allow them to impose 
on you. My rule is that all small bills must 
be settled once a month. Most of the girls 
get their allowance then. You will have con- 
siderable leisure for yourself. I hope you will 
soon feel very much at home.” 

As for Lilian she seemed in an enchanted 
land. Such stores of splendid reading, such a 
magnificent out of doors! She and her mother 
were sent out to drive, and the town was like 
the places she had read about in books or the 


32 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

higher grade monthly papers. Then Mrs. 
Dane, the housekeeper, returned and Miss 
Arran, who was a kind of secretary, took her 
outing. 

Mrs. Dane was a tall, rather severe looking 
person. All disputes with the servants and 
any discomforts in the rooms were under her 
jurisdiction. Why it was like a little king- 
dom in itself. 

“Mrs. Boyd doesn’t look very robust and 
seems rather timid, uncertain, though if she 
is capable — ” Mrs. Dane began rather sharply. 

“She has been seamstress to a dressmaker 
for several years. I fancy she has had it 
pretty hard for the last year or two, but Miss 
Lilian is very bright and energetic, only I am 
afraid she will hold her head rather too high.” 

“I fancy she will make an excellent teacher. 
That is her aim.” 

Mrs. Barrington had looked through the big 
book of photographs of school girls. Some 
turns of the head, some glances and a sound 
in the voice still puzzled her, but it was con- 
nected with something in the past. Few 
young girls made characteristic portraits. 
Ah, here was one who had just that poise, 
that eager ambitious expression. A Miss 
Mortimer who certainly possessed fine abili- 


A New Outlook 


33 


ties, and a resonant voice. She had taken the 
lead in school entertainments, and then she 
had joined a theatrical troupe and married a 
third rate actor, to the lady’s great disappoint- 
ment. 

“There is some likeness,” she mused, “only 
the voice is much gentler, more truly musical. 
It must be that is the elusive suggestion, and 
Miss Boyd is wild over Shakespeare. It shall 
be my purpose to prevent her from being an 
actress, unless she can stand in the front 
ranks.” 

Lilian and Miss Arran became friends al- 
most at once. Both were fond of walking, and 
to Lilian the beautiful aspect of the town, the 
woods and the picturesque river with its 
many windings and suggestive nooks where 
she always found a new touch of beauty 
stirred her with a vivid and intense delight. 

Then the real life began. Girls trouped in, 
trunks were set down with a thump or oftener 
carried up on the third floor for unpacking. 
Girls in the remnant of summer suits, for it 
was still warm, others in cloth or serge, 
laughing chatting, running to and fro. How 
bright and merry it all was! 

It took some time to get settled. The first 
grade girls who were to be the next year grad- 


34 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

uates, if they chose, were at one table with 
Mrs. Barrington and Madame Eustis, the 
French teacher; the other had Miss Arran, 
Miss Davis, and the new scholars or the sec- 
ond grade old ones. Lilian was at this table, 
though they could have their meals in their 
own rooms. 

She felt very sorry for her neighbor, Alice 
Nevins, who was dreadfully homesick and 
scarcely tasted anything, winking desperately 
to keep her eyes from overflowing. Some of 
them looked very bright and jolly. 

“Girls,” exclaimed Louie Howe, as a group 
gathered on the lawn, “there’s a new pupil 
teacher, and you know that’s one of Mrs. 
Barrington’s fads. Last year’s girl wasn’t 
much of a success it seems. I think it’s that 
lanky girl in brown silk who looks half fright- 
ened out of her wits, and her mother is the 
seamstress and caretaker. I wouldn’t have 
put her in brown silk with that dull brown hair 
and wretched complexion.” 

“Thank fortune she isn’t at our table!” 

“Oh, Mrs. Barrington wouldn’t put such a 
looking object with us. She really doesn’t 
know enough to last over night. There are 
eight new scholars, three with us come for 
finishing touches, five in the second grade.” 


A New Outlook 


35 


“There’s a girl I’d like to know with that 
splendid light hair, just the least bit wavy. 
She sat opposite Miss Arran, and had a blue 
lawn frock with the baby waist and lace yoke. 
She is fine looking; a little too grave to be 
handsome, but her complexion is lovely. 
She’s a princess in disguise, I can tell by the 
way she holds her head. I shall throw myself 
at her feet when I get a chance. It is a case 
of love at first sight. There she is with that 
brown girl. I’d go over but I am afraid of 
being snubbed. I do wonder who she can 
be, and there she’s taking that Elma Ran- 
som under her wing. It will take the child 
five years to get up to our first division.” 
“That brown girl as you call her is a Miss 
Nevins. Her parents have gone abroad, I’ve 
learned that much, and they are well to do. 
That is the golden mean between comparative 
and great wealth. Miss Vincent introduced 
her to me, and then she turned her to that 
rather striking looking girl.” 

“And which do you suppose is Miss Boyd? 
Or has she run back to mamma’s sheltering 
wing?” 

“I think she has discreetly retired. We 
must make some excuse to get in to our lady 
of the needle. I’m sorry Miss Nevins isn’t 


36 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

better looking if she has plenty of money.” 

“Well, the gods were just this time. She 
will need the money to illumine her pathway. 
Just see that girl in the blue frock. Why, they 
are thronging about her.” 

Louie Howe went over and caught little 
Elma Ransome by the arms. She was short 
and rather plump with an infantile face that 
made her look younger than her years. 

“Why Elly, I'm glad to see you back. Now 
this year you must study hard and fill up some 
of the vacancies we graduates make.” Then 
she glanced around the group. 

Elma flushed and then said a little awkward- 
ly — “This is Miss Boyd, and this Miss Nevins, 
and — I don't know all the names yet.” 

“You have more new scholars than we. 
Then she made a stiff little bow and turned 
away to her own group. 

“Girls, what do you think? Why, I nearly 
fainted with surprise. ‘Looks is often de- 
ceiving.' That girl I thought a princess in 
disguise is Miss Boyd. Why she has airs and 
graces enough to amaze you. If her mother 
is like that, will we ever dare to ask her to darn 
our stockings?” 

“Miss Boyd!” exclaimed a chorus of voices. 

“Well, it's good we have learned the fact 


A New Outlook 


37 


at once so we shall not make any blunders. 
She'll be a sort of charity scholar working for 
her board and training. Of course we shan't 
have anything to do with her as she isn't in 
our set. Though it wouldn't be so bad but 
for the mother." 

“That's real snobbish, Louie," said a girl. 

“Well, I don't know, you have a right to 
choose your friends, and I heard Mrs. Dane 
say something about their being very poor." 

“Well, she's stylish and she has an air, and 
Mrs. Barrington wouldn't take in any one 
objectionable. If my father should die I 
might be glad to have some one take me in, 
and I expect to teach when I am through. 
You see father has four more to educate." 

“Well, Mattie Vincent, you can make a 
bosom friend of her for all that I care." 

“Oh girls, don’t let's quarrel about her when 
we have just come and are glad to see each 
other. I dare say Miss Boyd wont trouble 
us." 

“She’ll be pushing, and aspiring to the best 
— you'll see! One can tell by the way she 
holds her head, and she could stare you out of 
countenance with those bold black eyes. I 
shall keep on my guard. You’ll see me take 
her down if she presumes." 


38 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

But Lilian Boyd did not presume. She went 
to church with her mother on Sunday in a 
simple white pique frock, and spent the even- 
ing on the back porch with Miss Arran, not 
even going in the parlor for the singing, and 
on Monday school duties began. The classes 
received considerable accessions from the day 
scholars. Lilian had two of the younger 
classes and she found a real pleasure in the 
teaching. Then she was in the Latin class 
and proved herself an excellent scholar. 

The evening hour was sometimes rather 
trying. Some of the girls asked foolish ques- 
tions just to perplex her. Occasionally she 
suggested they should ask Miss Davis. The 
younger ones were quite tractable, though now 
and then a spirit of fun broke out, set a-foot 
generally by the larger girls. 


CHAPTER III 


FOOD FOR CONSIDERATION 

Lilian Boyd did not want to cross the line 
of division that was acutely felt and yet so 
nicely projected that a faint move on her part 
would bring about a rebuff. She had the 
youthful longing for girlish friendships, for 
little confidences about books they liked, about 
aims and the future. Some of the pupils 
were so attractive ; and it was because she was 
the caretaker's daughter; she saw it when they 
came in to her mother with any errand, when 
they passed her in the halls with a supercilious 
nod. 

But then, why need she care? They would 
go their way presently and she might remain. 
She knew she had won Mrs. Barrington's 
favor. That lady made it a point of her 
joining the Sunday evening singing and she 
found that she had a good, flexible voice. 

One lovely October afternoon she thought 
she would walk down to the river whose banks 
were now a blaze of color. Some one called 
and she turned. It was Alice Nevins who was 
sometimes tiresome. The girls were going 
down in town and one of them had really 
asked her if she would not like to join them. 

39 


40 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

A gratified light shone in her eyes for a mo- 
ment. There was something in the other’s 
face that gave her a quick warning. There 
was some plot underneath. 

“Thank you very much but I cannot go this 
afternoon. I hope you will all have a nice 
time.” 

Then she went to her room. Her mother 
was folding up some sewing. “There is so 
little to do/’ and she smiled vaguely. 

“Come out and walk with me.” 

“No, I don’t feel equal to it, I will put a 
shawl about me and sit on the porch.” 

“Shall I come and read to you?” 

“No, dear, it is an effort to listen. I’ll just 
sit and think.” 

“Mother, are you satisfied here?” 

“Oh, my child, I could not have dreamed of 
anything so comfortable, and for your sake — 
you are happy?” with a touch of wistfulness. 

“Oh, it is so delightful, and then to think 
that I shall fit myself for a nice position 
presently. Then mother dear we will have a 
few rooms and a real home again.” 

“Oh, you are so good,” in a tremulous tone. 

Lilian kissed her. She wondered why her 
mother’s eyes rested on her at times with 


Food for Consideration 41 

that unfathomable look and the lips would 
move, then suddenly compress. 

So she walked down past the summer house 
where the Virginia creeper was flaunting long 
scarlet branches in the wind. 

“Oh, Miss Boyd!” 

She turned. Alice Nevins ran out. Her 
face was red and swoolen with weeping. 

“Oh, what is the matter?” 

“Let me come with you? Oh, Fm so home- 
sick, and I just hate some of the girls. They 
laugh when I blunder. I don’t know things. 
I just hate school! Papa would send me here. 
Mamma begged to take me abroad. I’m sure 
I could have learned a great many things. 
People say travel is an education. I hate to 
study books. Do you really love it?” 

“Yes, very much, and for all it brings to 
you. Were you never at school before?” 

“Only a little. Then I had a governess. 
You see, I was growing fast and mamma 
thought I oughtn’t study. She wasn’t very 
well and papa wanted to take her somewhere 
in Italy, and he sent me here, and some of the 
girls do make fun of me. Can’t you feel it 
when they are laughing at you?” 

Lilian flushed. “I try to think of some- 


42 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

thing else. They are not really worth mind- 
ing” 

“I know Fm not pretty. Oh, I wish I were! 
And you have such a lovely complexion. 
How is it made up?” 

“Made up? What do you mean?” 

“One of the girls said it was, and that some- 
times you painted.” 

Lilian was angry then. 

“My paint and powder are soap and water,” 
she returned, indignantly. “It is a shame for 
a young girl to do such things.” 

“But you are pretty. Must your mother 
be the caretaker here? What does she have 
to do?” 

“She looks after the sewing and the mend- 
ing. Yes, because we are poor, we both have 
to earn our living. Some day I mean to teach 
and take care of her.” 

“Where is your father?” 

“Oh, he died when I was a baby.” 

“Well — Fm awful sorry. Do you like that 
Phillipa Rosewald?” 

“I don’t know much about her.” 

She makes fun of so many things, and she 
tells you words that sound wrong when you 
pronounce them. I said something yesterday 
and the girls giggled and Miss Davis thought 


Food for Consideration 43 

I did it purposely and I was marked down.” 

“It was a very mean thing,” Lilian’s cheek 
glowed with indignation. 

“Then Miss Rosewald tells such funny 
stories. Four or five of the girls just hang 
together and they think they are everything. 
But I guess father is as rich as any of their 
fathers. Only I wish I was real handsome.” 

“Oh, my dear, I would think of my studies 
instead. Now let us talk them over. What 
is it that bothers you most?” 

“Oh, everything.” 

“But you must study. Now, won’t you try 
this evening. I’ll help you all I can.” 

“Oh, I wish I was with mamma. I shall 
just tell her that I hate school. What’s the 
use of so much education anyhow? Girls get 
married.” 

Lilian felt that Mrs. Nevins was a very 
poor mother not to have taught her daughter a 
little common sense. Then she asked how old 
Alice was. 

“I was fifteen last May.” 

“And I will be sixteen in June. I wasn’t 
quite fourteen when I was promoted to the 
High School, where I spent two years.” 

“Oh, but I’m not going to teach or any- 
thing. Mamma said she would be sure to 


44 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

send for me next vacation, but that is almost 
nine dreary months away,” with a profound 
sigh. 

“And you ought to learn a good deal in 
that time, so that you will not be classed with 
the ignorant and conceited girls who think 
their money will cover everything. There are 
so many young people going abroad nowadays, 
college girls who have all the nice points of 
travel by heart?” 

“Oh, dear, I just can’t study!” desperately. 

“Oh, try. Now this evening I will help 
you. You see,” smiling, “very little knowl- 
edge comes natural. It is true some acquire 
easier than others, but it is the continued effort 
after all.” 

“Oh, dear, I wish you had been my sister. 
Papa is always bemoaning that there are not 
more of us, but mamma says if there were I 
would have to go without many things. I’ve 
some lovely jewelry but papa would put it in 
the safe deposit, and he went and bought this 
cheap little watch for school. My nice one 
cost one hundred dollars. It’s a real beauty, 
and mamma has lots of diamonds. I have 
two, they were birthday rings. Don’t they 
have parties here when you dress up? I 
brought my pretty white silk, and I have a 


Food for Consideration 45 

pink one with lots of lace, and my fur coat will 
be sent to me, it is being altered a little. It's 
real seal, and mother has such a lovely Rus- 
sian sable. Oh, I do like pretty clothes, but 
Mrs. Barrington made out a list that seemed 
very plain for a high-up finishing school— 
don't you think so?" 

“I have not seen it. Most girls come to 
study and fit themselves for the station they 
are to occupy. Unless you are going in 
society I think there is little need of very fine 
clothes. Now let us talk a little about your 
studies. Miss Davis feels quite concerned 
about you." 

Miss Nevins pouted a little. Lilian felt her 
nice walk was spoiled so she turned her atten- 
tion to the ignorant girl who “just hated 
study. ' ' What a foolish mother she must have, 
while it seemed that her father was far more 
sensible. 

Mrs. Barrington stood on the porch as they 
returned. She detained Lilian with a wave of 
the hand. When Miss Nevins was out of 
hearing she said in an approving tone — 

“I am glad to see you take an interest in that 
poor child. Miss Davis thinks her lamentably 
ignorant. I am really sorry I accepted her, 
but her father wrote such urgent, sensible let- 


46 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

ters. Her mother must be a very foolish body 
and the girl is extremely backward. It is ask- 
ing a good deal of you to take a little pains with 
her, but I see that you have an attractive way 
with you. You will make an excellent teacher, 
and I hope to keep you a long while.” 

“Oh, thank you, I will try to do my best,” 
Lilian returned, delighted with the praise. 

Miss Arran always came in the study room, 
generally bringing a bit of embroidery for it 
was not expected that Miss Boyd should at- 
tend to the upper division with some girls 
older than herself. The other class were quite 
at the lower end of the room, ranged around 
the table. Miss Boyd seated herself next to 
Miss Nevins and patiently explained, but it 
was very hard to keep the girl's attention to 
the subject in hand. She thought she had 
never seen any one so utterly indifferent and 
with so little ambition. There had been 
stolid, slow-witted girls among the operatives 
in Laconia in the grammar school, but they 
really desired to learn. 

Miss Davis paused the next day to say — 

“Miss Boyd your good training does begin 
to take effect. Miss Nevins had such excel- 
lent recital ions today that I was pleased be- 
yond measure. You are way up in Mrs. 


Food for Consideration 47 

Barrington’s good graces, I can tell you.” 

Lilian flushed at the commendation. 

For the next hour the girls could have a 
social time in each others’ rooms or the library. 
There was a crowd of eager talkers with Miss 
Rosewald. 

“Yes,” she was saying. “I ran over the 
housekeeper just as she was coming out of 
Rinsey’s. Zay will be here by the 20th, and 
she’s coming right to school, for the Major 
and Mrs. Crawford are going to the Mediter- 
ranean. The German doctors and the baths 
did wonders for her and she can walk without 
crutches. A friend is to take them on his 
yacht and they’ll be home at Christmas, 
and there will be Vincent’s graduation. Dear 
me ! I hope I can go up to West Point. They 
say the balls are splendid. The Crawford 
house is to be all done over, and no doubt there 
will be a big housewarming there.” 

“Oh, it will be just delightful to have Zay 
back again. I suppose that’s the reason Miss 
White was put in with Buttons and that room 
fixed up so nice. Mrs. Barrington has had 
word, of course. We just need her to round 
out, I was going to say, the atmosphere. It’s 
too studious. Those Kirkland girls are going 
to college, dearly loved cousins, quite sufficient 


48 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

for themselves, and there’s that granery, yal- 
lery, Grosvenor Gallery, one who writes poetry 
and is too lackadaisical for anything. What 
we want is a rollicking, fun loving girl to start 
us.” 

“And something’s the matter with you, 
Phil. Have you been crossed in love?” 

Phillipa Rosewald turned scarlet. “No,” 
she answered, “it’s two of them and I can’t 
decide. One is rich and homely as a hedge 
fence and always says drawring and reel , but 
has lots of money and a fair enough family back 
of him. The other is handsome and oh, my! 
gay as a lark, but he had about run through 
with a fortune, and I’m afraid he will flirt now 
that the restraint of my serious and imposing 
presence is removed.” 

“Serious, that’s good. Why didn’t you say 
severe?” 

Phil’s love affairs were the entertainment of 
her coterie. 

“Oh, girls, did you notice — well, I have a 
new name for them. ‘Beauty and the Beast.’ 
How devoted they were this evening!” broke 
in Louie Howe. 

“Oh, you mean that Nevins girl? But do 
you call Miss Boyd handsome?” 


Food for Consideration 49 

“Well — she has a fine complexion — ” 

Louie wrinkled up her nose. 

— “and lots of beautiful hair, a good figure 
and regular features. Maybe she lacks a cer- 
tain style to make her noticeable — or some- 
thing— 1 ” 

“Money and position. I don’t just see why a 
common sort of girl who has to earn her living 
should be above the average, and that Nevins 
girl’s father is one of the firm of bankers in 
New York and London, and she’s horrid!” 

“Oh, girls,” exclaimed May Gedney, “they 
kissed each other last night in the hall, a reg- 
ular smack; I heard it. Fancy that pimply 
cheek being pressed against yours! and that 
lap-over tooth that sticks her lips out, and those 
pale gray-green eyes. Yes, Miss Boyd does 
look handsome by contrast.” 

There was a great giggle. “We must watch 
the course of this ardent love. Perhaps she 
understands the worth of contrast.” 

They went back to Zay Crawford, who was a 
general favorite. She and a brother nine years 
older than herself, a passed midshipman had 
gone to Germany in the summer, where her 
mother had been taking treatment. The 
Major had accompanied her. Miss Crawford 
had taken over the young people. 


50 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

It was true, to Lilian’s surprise, that Alice 
Nevins had clasped both arms around her and 
kissed her rapturously, exclaiming — “You are 
so sweet ! Oh, I wish mother and father would 
adopt you! I’d just like to have you for a 
sister. I’ve never seen a girl before that I 
wanted.” 

Lilian freed herself and went to her room. 
She was not an effusive girl. At Laconia she 
had made some friends, but she was too proud 
to aspire to the higher ranks or accept over- 
tures from them. She felt sorry for Alice 
Nevins but there was no real companionship. 
Yet was there not a duty? She seemed to 
occupy a peculiar position, and loved to listen 
to the^fascinating bits of talk, places one and 
another had seen, music, operas, paintings, 
lectures, a knowledge of real things, not merely 
those gleamed from books. 

Well, she must earn them herself. She 
used to dream of them at nights when the 
lights were put out. She was changing curi- 
ously, she felt it herself. It was not only in 
the added self-reliance, the nameless little ways 
of refinement and grace the intuitive knowl- 
edge of what we call good breeding, and the 
cordial smile of commendation from Mrs. 
Barrington thrilled every pulse. 


Food for Consideration 5 1 

Mrs. Boyd was not vulgar but she was 
undeniably commonplace. High thoughts 
such as stirred Lilian in verse, never roused 
her. Yet the girl did feel indignant at times 
at the manner in which some of the girls ad- 
dressed her mother when they were uniformly 
polite to Miss Arran. 

She was quite undecided about her duty to 
Miss Nevins. The kiss had come so suddenly 
she had no time to evade it but she took good 
care to do so the next night. Lilian had never 
been an effusive girl. She had almost broken 
her mother’s heart in her little more than 
babyhood, when after a rapturous caress she 
had half pulled from the enclosing arms and 
said in a willful fashion — “Don’t kiss me so 
hard, I don’t liked to be kissed!” And later 
on when her mother had always called her 
Lily, she had said emphatically — “Why don’t 
you call me Lilian! I’m too big a girl to be 
called by such a baby name as Lily and I don’t 
like it.” 

That began a sort of gulf between them that 
the mother never had the courage to bridge 
over. There was a curious dignity about her 
that even the obtuse Miss Nevins could not 
surmount. 


52 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

One day the girl brought her two beautiful 
orchids. 

“You’ve been so good about my lessons that 
I wanted to do something, and these were” — 
hesitatingly — 

“Handsome and expensive,” in a chilling 
tone. “They were the finest things the 
florist had, and mamma always sends me some 
money in her letters, while papa sends my al- 
lowance to Mrs. Barrington. So I feel that 
is clear gain,” laughing. “Mrs. Barrington is 
rather strict about allowances, and she’s shut 
down on so much sweets and hot chocolates. 
Do you think it hurts one’s complexion?” 

“It certainly hurts yours. I would give 
them up, and so much cake; the regular school 
living is good enough, and you should take a 
cold bath in the morning.” 

“Ouch! That would be horrid,” and the 
girl shuddered. 

“But you want to be beautiful!” 

“Oh, I am afraid that wouldn’t make me 
beautiful, and when I am quite grown up I 
shall have lovely clothes, and it doesn’t so 
much matter when you are rich.” 

Lilian glanced at her with a sort of pity that 
any girl could be so silly, and a sense of dis- 
gust, also. 


Food for Consideration 53 

“Miss Nevins, I must say one thing that I 
want you to observe for the future. You 
must not make me costly gifts nor any kind of 
gifts. The help I am giving you Mrs. Bar- 
rington wishes me to give to any girl who needs 
it. It is simply my duty, you see, and Mrs. 
Barrington repays me.” 

Miss Nevins looked as if she could not un- 
derstand. Then she struck a rather tragic 
pose. 

“Oh, if you would only love me!” she cried, 
clasping her hands together. “I am so lonely! 
I miss mamma every hour. Then I think I 
could learn to like it here, and I’d try to study. 
Fd give up cream soda and — yes, I would take 
the bath, but it must be warm.” 

“Oh, you foolish thing!” Lilian laughed in 
spite of herself. “There, I cannot stay here 
talking, and you must go to your lessons.” 

“No, I’ll get some other girl and go down 
town. You are cold and cruel.” 

She was rather sullen all the evening and 
failed in some recitations the next day. After 
that she studied with a better grace. 

“Miss Arran,” Lilian said on Sunday morn- 
ing, “do you think I might take mother to 
that little Chapel in Chester street. I think 
she would feel more at home there.” 


54 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“Oh, certainly. Mrs. Barrington insists that 
the girls shall attend at least one service a 
Sunday. Then there is the Bible Class here, 
which she makes very interesting. She and 
many of the girls go to Trinity, but I like the 
Chapel a good deal myself. It is a Methodist, 
you know.” 

“Yes, mother was used to that service.” 

So they went together, though Louie Howe 
said — “We’ll manage it so Beauty and the 
Beast will walk together,” but she missed her 
plan. 

It was a very simple and sweet service and 
the sermon was on hidden sins. Lilian won- 
dered if her’s was undue pride, the desire to 
rise above her station? She glanced at her 
mother. The tears were coursing silently 
down her sunken cheeks. Was she missing the 
•love a daughter ought to give? She looked so 
frail and delicate that the girl’s heart went out 
to her as it never had before. 

In the vestibule stood a sweet faced young 
woman waiting while an elderly lady was 
talking to her friend. She came near and held 
out her hand in a friendly manner. 

“You are a stranger here, but we are very 
glad to welcome you,” she began cordially. 


Food for Consideration 55 

“You are one of the Seminary young ladies, 
I saw you on the porch one day when I was 
passing.” 

“Yes,” Lilian returned, then added “in a 
way. And this is my mother, Mrs. Boyd.” 

“And I am Miss Trenham. This is my 
mother.” The two ladies shook hands in an 
old-fashioned manner. 

“Do you go up Elm Place? Then let us 
walk together. Is this your first year here?” 

“Yes,” answered Lilian. 

“I hope you liked our clergyman and will 
come again.” 

“I think mother will feel more at home.” 

Miss Trenham smiled. 

“I come here largely for my mother’s sake. 
I think the simple service comes nearer the 
heart of the older people. I like Trinity 
church, I like the service of the whole year 
round, and the music is fine. I like coming in 
the house of God with a reverent hymn. You 
are one of the newer scholars, are you not?” 

“Yes, we came in August. My mother has 
a position in the household.” She would not 
sail under false colors. “And I am to study 
for a teacher.” 


56 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“Oh, then we'll have a mutual bond. I am 
a teacher in the Franklin School." 

“Oh, I know where that is," with a smile. 

“You like your own school?" 

“Oh, it is delightful, and such a beautiful 
home. Such a lovely town — " 

Her face was radiant with pleasure. Then 
they paused. 

“We go on a few blocks further. We live 
in Gray street. I am very glad to have met 
you. Shall I see you again next Sunday 
morning?" 

“Oh, yes," promised Lilian. 

Then she took her mother's arm. 

“Did you like it mother dear? I thought 
the service very simple and sweet." 

“And the lady was so friendly. I told her 
we were at the Seminary. The daughter 
teaches school, and she asked me to visit 
them — to come to tea some day. Do you 
suppose Mrs. Barrington would object? Would 
you like to go?" timidly. 

“Why it would be very pleasant." 

“Everybody seems so grand, I’m glad not 
to go to the high-up tables; I'm so afraid of 
mistakes. You see when people get along in 


Food for Consideration 57 

life it isn’t so easy to take up new ways. 
But that Mrs. Trenham seemed like some of 
the Laconia folks.” 

“Yes, we will go again next Sunday,” said 
Lilian. “And to tea the first time we are in- 
vited.” 


CHAPTER IV 


THE GRACE OF ENDEAVOR 

The door of Mrs. Boyd’s room stood partly 
open. Louie Howe gave a light tap and 
marched in with an air that was rather inso- 
lent. 

“Oh, Mrs. Boyd, I’ve given my walking dress 
such an awful tear! Mrs. Barrington said 
she was quite sure you could mend it. You 
see I’m going to a sort of musicale in about an 
hour and I couldn’t take it to the tailors. 
It’s my best suit, too, and— it must be done 
very neatly.” 

Mrs. Boyd examined it. “Yes, it’s pretty 
bad, I’ve done worse though, and part of it 
will be under the plait. Let me see if I have 
the right color.” 

She opened a box of spools and took up 
several colors to match. 

“Oh, yes, here is one,” and she gave a smile 
of gratification. 

Louie dropped into a chair. Was she going 
to wait? Lilian wondered. 

“What a pleasant room this is, Mrs. Boyd! 
But all the rooms are just cozy and nice. Of 
course Mrs. Barrington can afford to keep it 
in a lovely fashion for her prices are high and 


58 


The Grace of Endeavor 59 

she doesn’t care to take any scholars only 
from the best families. I do wonder how that 
Nevins girl slipped in? Her father is a first- 
class banker, I have understood. They have 
a big house in New York and a summer house 
at Elberon, and their New York house is 
rented out for seven thousand dollars; but isn’t 
she a terror? How do you stand her, Miss 
Boyd?” 

“She has had very little training. Her 
mother has been ill and seems very indulgent,” 
answered Lilian quietly. “Yet she may make 
a very fair scholar.” 

“It’s funny to hear her talk. Bragging, we 
call it. Do you suppose the stories are true?” 

“Mrs. Barrington would know,” was the 
cautious reply. 

“Well, I suppose she must be satisfactory or 
she wouldn’t be here. But there’s common 
blood back of her somewhere. Money doesn’t 
give you the prestige of good birth. That 
always shows — don’t you think so?” with a 
confident upward glance. 

“I have not had experience enough with the 
world to judge,” answered Lilian. “We lived 
in a factory town — ” 

“And in such places there are a good many 
newly rich, and they think they have it all.” 


6o The Girls at Mt. Morris 


Mrs. Boyd had been straightening out the 
rent and basting it on a piece of stiff paper. 

“I wonder if you would mind asking Mrs. 
Dane if there were irons on the range.” 

She looked straight at Louie, not at all as 
if she was asking a favor. Lilian was on her 
knees straightening and dusting the lower 
shelf of the book case. She did not even turn 
her head. 

Miss Howe went out with what she thought 
was a stately step and frowned at the girl on 
the floor whose business was to wait on her 
mother. When she was clear out of sight and 
hearing Lilian sprang up and clasped her arms 
about her mother. 

“Oh, that was just splendid!'’ she cried, her 
eyes soft and shining. 

“I — I think I meant — either of you!” hes- 
itating. 

“It was her business and it won’t hurt her 
to wait on herself. The girls go down to the 
kitchen and iron out ribbons and things. I’m 
not their maid, and she had no business to 
stand here gossipping about Miss Nevins. 
I’m sorry for her and I don’t like her, but there 
are some girls that are real friendly. There 
are two girls going to college next year. They 
have money, too, and they think a degree a 


The Grace of Endeavor 61 


great thing, and know of girls who have 
taught awhile and then taken a year or two 
and taught again. I was reading such a fine 
book — this girl and her mother took a cottage 
and boarded the overflow of girls and had a 
lovely time, she helping and studying. That’s 
what we will try to do, and this year you will 
get real well and strong. Oh, isn’t it nice not 
to have any care of things and so much com- 
fort?” 

The mother bent over her work turning her 
head aside so that a tear shouldn’t fall on it. 
Oh, wouldn’t the child be better off without 
her? She was so courageous, so fertile in 
expedients. Oh, they could not be all day 
dreams. 

The skirt was beautifully darned and pressed 
and sent to Miss Howe’s room by the maid. 
Then a note came to Mrs. Boyd. “Wouldn’t 
she and Miss Lilian walk home with the Tren- 
hams from church tomorrow morning and dine 
and meet a delightful young friend who had 
graduated at a Woman’s College. Lilian 
might like to hear the experiences.” 

“Oh, that will be just royal!” the girl ex- 
claimed. “Mother you must rest this after- 
noon. If there is any mending let me do it.” 

“Nothing is needed. Sometimes I feel as if 


62 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


I did not really earn my salary, and Mrs. 
Barrington is so kind.” 

“And now I begin to feel quite at home with 
some of the young ladies. I am proud of 
being a good scholar, but I study with all my 
might and main,” laughing. “And next year 
I may earn a little money.” 

Sunday was bright but rather blowy. The 
leaves fell and whirled about like flocks of 
birds and the sky was like a June day. Miss 
Benson had come to church, a bright rather 
pretty woman of five or six and twenty. Her 
voice was attractive. Lilian had come to 
remark the differences in voices. Some did 
repel you; many were indecisive. 

They walked down to Elm place. This was 
the old end of the street in a row of small 
detached houses with gardens running back 
to the next street and a space of six feet or so 
between. The Trenham’s was in very nice 
tidy order, the windows with neat white 
drapery. 

“Our next door neighbors are considered 
quite a detriment,” explained Edith Trenham. 
“The woman professes to be a clairvoyant, and 
there are five children, two very unruly boys. 
I do hope they will go away in the spring.” 

Edith ushered her guests into the pretty 


The Grace of Endeavor 63 

parlor where the cheerful fire seemed to ra- 
diate pleasure as well as heat. In a small 
wheeling chair sat the invalid, a pale little girl 
of fifteen, but who looked years younger. She 
held out her hand to Lilian. 

“Oh, what pleasure it is to see you,” she 
cried. “Your color is radiant — like a June 
rose, isn’t it mamma? and such beautiful hair. 
Edith is always well but she hasn’t much color. 
Oh, if you could have seen our roses in June! 
They were bewildering. Don’t you feel that 
gorgeous things sometimes are? Then the 
next door boys came over and stole the roses 
and broke the bushes. I cried nearly all day. 
It seemed as if I had been pulled to pieces. 
The mother saidshewassorrybutthatwouldn’t 
put the roses back.” 

“Claire you will find is quite a spoiled child,” 
Edith said, stooping to kiss her. She was very 
pale and the dark hair framing in the little 
face gave her an almost uncanny look. 

When they had laid aside their wraps Claire 
took possession of Lilian again, and wanted 
to know about the girls in the Seminary. 

“Why, Claire, they are most all young 
ladies,” said Edith. 

“Well — are there many pretty ones? and 


64 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

what do they do beside study? They would 
get tired studying all the time.” 

Lilian explained that they visited in each 
others rooms and had calisthenics and danced, 
and went through some beautiful evolutions 
with Indian clubs — 

“Oh, how funny !” Claire interrupted. “Do 
they make believe they are Indians?’’ 

“Oh, no,” and Lilian explained. They 
had a bell double quartette and made lovely 
music by striking some sweet-toned bells with 
small wands, and they were allowed to go 
down town. One evening a week there were 
dances. 

“Oh, do you dance? You look that way?” 

Lilian colored. “You see I spend a good 
deal of my time with my mother. Then I have 
lessons to learn — ” 

“And I don’t study, I read delightful books. 
For you must know I can never get about or 
do things like other children. I draw and I 
paint over pictures, and I have an autoharp, 
and a beautiful big doll that I make believe 
is alive and we go traveling. Edith reads 
about journeys.” 

Mrs. Trenham had been adding a few last 
touches to the table which had been mostly 
prepared in the morning, the real cooking hav- 


The Grace of Endeavor 65 

ing been done the day before. Claire wag 
lifted out in a cushioned chair and insisted 
that Lilian should sit next. Miss Benson wag 
on the other side and took a turn with Lilian. 

“Yes, she had worked her way through col- 
lege. She had studied type-writing and done 
work for the professors and copied essays for 
the girls and coached backward girls, and 
trimmed hats, as she had a genius for millinery. 
Then, in vacation she had been a sort of sum- 
mer governess when parents wanted to take 
journeys. It had all been very interesting, 
too, but it had taken longer, and now she was 
studying medicine in New York and teaching 
some hours a day.” 

“I like to teach but I don’t believe I want 
to be a doctor, I think I should like to go to 
college.” 

“It is a fine discipline and broadens out one’s 
mind. It makes excellent teachers, as well, 
and you do have many happy times. Think 
of a settlement of hundreds of girls!” 

“Mrs. Barrington will only have twenty 
boarders and there are about twenty day 
scholars.” 

“Not a very large family to be sure, but 


66 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


enough to give you some variety. You look 
as if you might be a good student.” 

Lilian colored. 

Mrs. Trenham was entertaining the mother. 

She had been a widow twelve years, but was 
left with a small competency. Claire had 
been thrown out of a carriage by a runaway 
horse when she was barely five and very se- 
riously injured so that for two years she was 
entirely helpless and now held her life on a 
very frail tenure, but she was a happy child 
and they made her life as entertaining as pos- 
sible. 

“You are blest in your daughter,” said Mrs. 
Trenham. “She is so bright and eager and 
vigorous, and has so much character. Well, 
I have Edith who has always been a great com- 
fort, and I suppose one gets used to a burden 
when it is a pleasant one. Claire is very lov- 
ing and we try to keep all sad things from her.” 

Lilian thought it a delightful afternoon. 
These were the kind of people you could get 
close to. She saw that her mother was en- 
joying it as well. Wasn’t it rather monoto- 
nous for her at Mrs. Barrington’s? At La- 
conia there had been neighbors dropping in, 
some who had known her early life and sum- 
pathized with her misfortunes, and here, no 


The Grace of Endeavor 67 

one. She was glad to have been taken in this 
kindly family. 

“Oh, won’t you come often?” pleaded 
Claire. “I like you so much, and if you could 
come some Saturday mamma and Edith 
might go out together. An old lady does 
come in when they go to church, but she isn’t 
any real company. She hasn’t any ideas. 
Don’t you think old people get sort of stupid?” 
Lilian laughed. 

Miss Benson expressed a good deal of pleas- 
ure at meeting such an ambitious girl and 
hoped to keep in touch with her for sometime; 
she might be able to counsel her or perhaps 
direct her on her way. 

“It has been just delightful,” she said when 
they reached their own rooms. 

She did not go in to sing but read to her 
mother. Yes, she would try in the future to 
share more of her life with the colorless one. 
She had resolved to make the great sacrifice 
when she found she could not go on with 
school, and lo, this had been the outcome. 
They were delightfully sheltered, there were 
no hardships, only pin pricks and she would be 
silly to mind those. There was a sudden com- 
motion through the place on Monday morning. 


68 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


Such glad bursts of welcome, such joyous 
laughter and absolute peans of delight. 

For Zaidee Crawford had come. She, Lilian, 
was not in it and she wondered if at any time 
or in any place there would be such unalloyed 
gladness at her coming. 

A girl of fifteen, bewilderingly pretty in the 
changes that passed over her mobile face. A 
complexion that was pink and pearl, golden 
hair that was a mass of waves and shining rings 
that seemed to ray off sunshine with every 
movement of the head that had a bird-like 
poise; a low broad Clytie brow and eyes that 
were the loveliest violet color, sometimes blue, 
sometimes the tenderest, most appealing gray. 
Her smile was captivating, disarming. It 
played about her lips that shut with dimples 
in the corners, it quivered in her eyes and made 
the whole face radiant. 

Why Zaidee Crawford wasn’t spoiled by 
the indulgence and adulation was quite a 
mystery. She had been longed for before her 
birth — one brother was seven the other nine 
years older. Major Crawford thought the 
tie between father and daughter was one of 
the choicest of heaven’s blessings. He was 
proud of his sons whose straightforward, 
honorable careers in the lines they had chosen, 


The Grace of Endeavor 69 

to his great satisfaction, gave him profound 
happiness. Connected with Zaidee’s birth 
had been the great sorrow of their lives that 
had cost Mrs. Crawford years of excruciating 
suffering and at first it seemed hopeless in- 
validism. In one of the Indian skirmishes 
the Major had been severely wounded in the 
leg that had left it lame and rather stiff. He 
resigned from the army to devote himself to 
his wife and the old residence that had been 
in his family for generations. And at this 
period a relative died and left him a large 
fortune. Beyond improving his estate and 
having the best medical attendance for his 
wife there was no real change in their living. 
They were both too sensible not to know how 
easily boys might be led astray by unwise 
indulgence in money. They were both high 
minded with a fine sense of right and justice. 
Both had gone down the dark valley and 
looked death in the face and thereafter 
walked humbly before God. 

Zaidee Crawford had been a day scholar 
except at intervals when her mother had been 
taken away for medical treatment. Oddly 
enough, Mrs. Crawford as a girl, had been edu- 
cated by Mrs. Barrington, then a young and 
childless widow, with an ardent desire for some 


70 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

useful aim in life, and they had remained the 
warmest of friends. Mrs. Barrington’s com- 
fort and faith had cheered many an hour of 
despondency. 

But the Major had once said — “Margaret, 
while you can endure the suffering, always 
think that I would much rather have you as 
you are than to have lost you in that terrible 
time, and God has spared us our two fine sons 
and our sweet daughter.” 

Yes, there was much joy still left to life. 

Zay went to her classes as a visitor this 
morning. There were many smiles of wel- 
come. After all, she had not fallen so far 
behind, but her brother had been coaching her. 
There were four new scholars in the Latin 
class. The Kirklands, Louie Howe, who had 
been promoted, and a Miss Boyd, who roused 
a peculiar interest; but then her rendering in 
the translation was exceedingly fine. 

“Who is that tall girl with the bronzy gold 
hair? And isn’t she a fine reader?” exclaimed 
Zaidee. 

They were in a little group of old friends. 
Louie Howe laughed, Phillipa made a funny 
face. 

“Well?” and flushing a little she glanced up, 
inquiringly. 


The Grace of Endeavor 7 1 

“The caretaker’s daughter. We are dem- 
ocratic this year,” announced May Gedney. 

“The caretaker — ” 

“A Mrs. Boyd, a pale little nonentity, but 
she darns in the most elegant fashion you ever 
saw. She had to bring her daughter you 
see, and the daughter is to be a teacher — is a 
sort of charity scholar, looks after the laggards 
in the evening, but she keeps her place pretty 
well. Of course she lives over on that side,” 
nodding her head. 

“See here,” began Phillipa, “that girl has 
puzzled me with an elusive resemblance to 
somebody, Zay, it really is you. Her hair and 
eyes are darker, she’s larger every way, she 
is not such a peerless maid — ” 

“I shouldn’t feel complimented by that! 
Oh the idea! A girl from — well somewhere 
from the wild and woolly west — ” 

Much as Phillipa Rosewald loved her 
friends and she confessed to adoring Zaidee, 
she never stopped at a little fling. 

“The compliment, of course, is to Miss Boyd. 
She has a temper of her own, you can catch a 
flash of it in her eyes, and I dare say her iron 
rule is what makes her mother so meek. She 
pets up that Nevins girl who is a — well they 


72 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

are called Beauty and the Beast. How she 
managed to slip in here puzzles me.” 

“That girl is my horrid familiar, my bete 
noire. She has the room next to mine and 
you ought to see it. Miss Davis marked her 
down for untidyness, and Mrs. Barrington put 
her on a diet, her complexion was so horrid, 
but she manages to get a lot of sweets and 
chocolates. And the way she dresses! A 
modiste in New York sends her clothes and 
told her the color of one’s frocks must match 
the hair or the eyes, and no one could match 
those gray blue green eyes, so it has to be the 
hair.” 

“I wouldn’t want that dull brown hair. 
I don’t suppose she ever brushes it. At home 
the maid looked after her. The mother is 
traveling for her health, and they are very 
rich.” 

“Oh, is she making a confidante of you, 
too?” laughed May Gedney. “I thought it 
rather funny at first, I didn’t believe half she 
said, but her lather is quite an important man 
in banking circles it seems, and there are 
diamonds galore, but he wouldn’t let her 
wear only that diamond birthday ring at 
school. She was wildly in love with Miss 
Boyd but the girl was too hard hearted to 


The Grace of Endeavor 73 

return it. She is a regular icicle and stony 
hearted and all that! Yes, her heart is irre- 
trievably gone about the girl. They did have 
a kissing match one night but they don’t do 
it any more in public! I don’t know what they 
do in private, but the Boyd shut down on 
gifts which almost broke her heart, and she 
had spent two dollars for two orchids.” 

“That certainly speaks well for Miss Boyd,” 
Zay exclaimed. 

May flushed. Lately she had been the 
recipient of some gifts. 

“Of course she is here to train the younger 
minds in the paths of knowledge while her 
mother mends their clothes.” 

“Well, is that to be despised?” asked Zay 
with spirit. 

“Why, no, but of course you don’t associate 
with your dressmaker’s daughter, nor the 
store clerks though they are nice enough for 
the places they have to fill in life. If it wasn’t 
for the mother she might pass muster, and you 
know this is the most select of schools. That 
is one reason mother sent me here there was 
no chance of making undesirable acquain- 
tances. For one thing, the terms are too high,” 
and Louie Howe bridled. 


74 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“Is this Miss Nevins at the highwater 
mark?” and there was a touch of sarcasm in 
Zay’s tone. 

“Oh let’s quit the higher criticism,” said 
another. “I want to hear Zay talk, and you’ve 
been to Berlin and that picturesque Dresden. 
Did you see the shepherdesses with their 
crooks, and Corydon making love to them, 
and Holland — that funny place of canals and 
windmills and stumpy dutchmen.” 

“And, oh, did you see the Kaiser?” 

Zay laughed. “Yes, mounted on a fine 
horse, and the Empress and her pretty 
daughter in a state carriage. And Willard 
went to some sort of review with the Ambassa- 
dor and was presented to the Kaiser who asked 
him about Annapolis, and some of the training. 
He thought the great Emperor very affable. 
Father has been at a few of the functions and 
seen the royal ladies in their state dresses. 
Then, there are some splendid professors and 
scientists — ” 

“But you didn’t go to Paris?” 

“No. Father and Willard spent ten days 
there while Aunt Kate and I staid with 
mother. Then she could cross the room with- 
out a cane, even. Now she can walk somedis- 


The Grace of Endeavor 75 

tance. Oh, girls, its splendid not to have her 
go on crutches! And she thinks in two years 
or so we may go to Paris for quite a stay. 
You know real young girls don’t understand 
fine pictures and all that! Willard begins his 
three-years cruise early in January, and in the 
summer Vincent will graduate and perhaps 
be sent off somewhere. The doctors wanted her 
to spend the whole winter about the Mediter- 
ranean, but she thought it would be so lovely 
to have our Christmas together.” 

“Oh, Zaidee Crawford, you’re a girl to be 
envied ! None but the rich, etc.,” with sundry 
upturnings of the chin. 

“Well, I hope I’ll be able to go abroad on a 
wedding tour. Otherwise I won’t have him!” 
announced Phillipa with great solemnity at 
which they all laughed. 

“Young ladies do you know it is time to go 
out for exercise,” said Miss Arran. 

“Oh, let us go over to Crawford House,” 
cried Zay. “Why, you will hardly know it. 
The two parlors are to be thrown into one — a 
regular drawing room, and I’m to have the 
prettiest study off of my bedroom. I have to 
decide what color I shall have them done in.” 

“We’ll all help you.” 


y6 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“I just can’t have blue and I like it so, but 
it is the one idea of blondes, therefore I avoid 
it” 

“It seems Miss Boyd’s favorite color,” said 
Louie. “And she’s not so very blondy, 
either. 


CHAPTER V 


ZAIDEE 

They were the usual lot of girls in a sort of 
hubbub together. With the exception of the 
Kirklands they were not taking life seriously 
as yet. They studied and sang, painted, 
wrote verses, sometimes were caught on 
trigonometry and occasionally made awful 
translations in Latin and French. They 
changed their ideals, they vowed friendship 
and fell out with each other, they were spiteful 
and willful and sweet and penitent, and if 
“a boy’s will’s the wind’s will,” a young girl’s 
will in the unformed years is not much better. 

Phillipa Rosewald was a sort of leader. A 
kind of charming girl with many varieties, 
fascinating, making you like her when she 
chose and then giving you pin pricks instead 
of caresses. Before she put on long dresses 
boys were quarrelling about her and she seemed 
to sandwich love affairs in with her lessons ; 
she had fine taste in dressing, she could tie a 
bow, or trim a hat, or furbish up an evening 
waist in a manner that filled her comrades 
with envy, and she was a fairly good scholar as 
well. 

But Zaidee with her graciousness and sweet 


77 


78 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

temper won all hearts. Every one was eager 
to have some little claim upon her. Her 
mother’s sad accident and her father being one 
of the survivors of a fierce Indian battle made 
her a sort of heroine. She was not quite an 
angel but very human and with the peculiar 
sweetness that always disarms criticism. 

And although it was considered a rather 
aristocratic school there were the usual feuds 
and bits of jealousy inseparable from a crowd 
of girls, the days in the main passed delightful- 
ly, and now they were all interested in the 
rehabilitation of Crawford House, the coming 
of the young midshipman and the lovely 
mother who at last had an almost miraculous 
restoration to health and strength. 

Crawford House was full of workmen. 
Aunt Kate was supervisor. Willard was 
staying with his parents. 

The house stood on a little eminence and 
had two terraces that were a mass of bloom in 
the summer. A broad portico ran on two 
sides and at the end fronting the south there 
was an imposing tower, many windows. 
Back of it was a flower garden, a vegetable 
garden, barns, carriage house and a useful 
little green-house. 

“Dear, I hope the workmen will be through 


Zaidee 


79 

early in December,” said Aunt Kate. “Then 
there is all the furnishing. Only about six 
weeks. Does school seemnatural, Zay? Have 
the girls gone way ahead of you?” 

“I hardly know yet,” was the laughing 
reply. “Mrs. Barrington hasn’t really set me 
at work.” 

“Are there many new scholars?” 

“Not in our department, but it seems nice 
to be a school girl again and not a globe 
trotter.” 

“But you didn’t go quite round the world.” 

“I’m glad there’s something left. Look 
girls, this is my room with the southern and 
western exposure. I think I’ll have it done 
in pale green and pink, Aunt Kate. That will 
tone down the summer sunshine. Phil and I 
have been discussing colors.” 

“That will be pretty, and you can stand 
green. It would turn some complexions yel- 
low,” returned Aunt Kate. 

“How short the days are growing! And it 
gets dark so soon. Girls, we had better hurry 
off home.” 

“Shall I order samples of green, Zaidee?” 

“Yes, Aunt Kate, if you please.” 

It was quite a treat to sit down at the table 
with a group of girls. Madame Eustice 


8o The Girls at Mt. Morris 


talked to them in French and Zay surprised 
her with her readiness and improved pro- 
nunciations. 

“And I am quite a proficient in German as 
far as talking goes, Fve heard so much of it, 
and it seemed so funny at first. Though a 
good many of the servants and waiters speak 
a little English.” 

Zay glanced down at the other table. She 
singled out Miss Nevins who had quite a fancy 
hair dressing and a pink bow. But she saw 
no one she thought Miss Boyd. Then there 
was a full hour to the study period. 

Lilian and her mother often took this meal 
which was only a kind of high tea in their 
room. Mrs. Boyd could not overcome a half 
fear of Mrs. Dane. Then she read to her 
mother until it was time to go to the study. 
Often she left her mother asleep in the big 
easy chair. Oh, for some one to listen and to 
respond! But the practice was good for her 
if no one listened. 

Zay kept glancing furtively down at the 
table of the younger class. Yes, there was 
Miss Boyd. She ‘went toward a pupil, as a 
small hand was held up. There was some- 
thing interesting in the face, and the young 
student would glance up and smile. Was 


Zaidee 


81 


there any resemblance, she wondered? The 
hair was darker, but the complexion was cer- 
tainly fine. Miss Nevins had a peevish look 
tonight and said something rather cross. Miss 
Boyd preserved her serenity. 

Lilian was having quite a delightful new in- 
terest in the Trenhams. Her exercise hour 
led to a walk down there and an engaging half 
visionary talk with Claire who had wonderful 
adventures with a pretty squirrel who ran up 
and down a tree in range with her window. 
Or it was some belated bird who had lost his 
way south and had to hide to keep out of the 
way of the hunters. 

“Why do they let them go out and kill the 
poor birdies?” she asked plaintively. “I 
should think it would be braver to go to 
Africa and shoot lions and tigers and those 
cruel animals that eat up human beings, and 
the dear pretty little squirrels!” 

“Why, indeed?” Lilian had often thought 
of it herself. 

Or it would be a story of a fairy who had 
a long search for a charmed ring that would 
bestow a wonderful power over everything in 
the forest and give the animals the gift of 
speech. Claire told one, Lilian must take the 
next. 


82 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


“Edith comes home so tired sometimes. 
You are always fresh,” the child said. 

Then the girl would meet Edith who would 
turn about and walk with her and listen to 
the hopes and ambitions and dreams she could 
tell to no one else. So she had a comforting 
secret life. 

Zaidee Crawford made two or three slight 
advances, but they were distantly received, 
and Zay was not used to being rebuffed. 
She was not much of an analyst and thought 
Miss Boyd very cold natured. But now and 
then the enthusiasm of the true student broke 
out in some class recitation and it transfigured 
her. 

“Our pupil teacher quite distinguished her- 
self today,” said Phillipa Rosewald, “though 
I must say it was in exceedingly bad taste.” 

“Why bad taste?” asked Zay. “I thought 
it fine.” 

“She might have been a little more modest. 
You see, my dear child, we are not preparing 
for teachers nor to vulgarly distinguish our- 
selves. I thought Miss Grayson did not 
quite like it. Are you really growing fond of 
your double? But I can’t imagine you stand- 
ing up in that bold fashion.” 

Zay was silent. It always annoyed her 





They Were the Usual Lot of Girls (Chap. 5. Girls at Mt. Morris) 









Zaidee 


83 

to have Miss Boyd called her double. The 
figure and manner was so different. Zay was 
so light and airy, she seemed rather to skim 
over space than to walk, and every motion was 
replete with grace, while Miss Boyd was 
stately, and when critical eyes were upon her, 
sometimes seemed awkward. 

Miss Nevins certainly was improving. 
Thanks to Mrs. Barrington’s regimen her 
complexion had cleared up, she kept her hair 
in a tidier fashion. May Gedney had insisted 
upon her wearing something beside the dismal 
browns. 

“Send this to your dressmaker and have a 
green suit trimmed with bands of gray fur — 
if it won’t be too extravagant.” 

“Oh, father will pay the bill. He hasn’t 
much idea of what things cost.” 

“See here — I know a lovely dressmaker in 
Livingston. I sometimes go there. Mrs. Bar- 
rington would let us go over with Miss Davis, 
I am sure, and as she keeps samples we could 
choose, and she could take your measure. I 
don’t believe it would cost half as much, and 
will be prettier. Your clothes are too old.” 

“Oh, you are an angel,” and May had to 
submit to an embrace. 


84 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

Mrs. Barrington agreed. She gave Miss 
Nevins some money. 

“As they are going on your business you 
must pay their expenses,” she said. 

Miss Nevins felt really grand. This was 
a true friend. 

One evening she thrust a note in Lilian’s 
hand. She had taken a seat on the other side 
of the table. 

Lilian read it in her room. She smiled, yet 
she felt a little hurt after all she had done for 
Alice. 

“I hope you won’t feel bad because I 
changed my seat. Some of those hateful girls 
called us Beauty and the Beast. I know I am 
not handsome, but then rich people seldom 
are, and I don’t think you are so very. I have 
a new dear friend who really does care for me 
and is going to plan about my clothes. Of 
course you don’t know how the real style 
ought to dress, and I don’t think mamma 
would like me to be intimate with a girl whose 
mother was caretaker here. It’s such a pity 
she is, for if she wasn’t here you wouldn’t need 
to say anything about it and would be more 
respected. I hope you won’t be mad. — 
Alice.” 

“I won’t be ashamed of her, poor dear 


Zaidee 


85 

mother,” Lilian said resolutely. But if she 
were like Mrs. Trenham, and the change 
would not be so very great, she mused. 

Miss Nevins avoided her for the next few 
days. Lilian did not seem to notice it. 

Mrs. Barrington called the girls together 
one evening. 

“Young ladies,” she began, “I have a plan 
to lay before you. There have always been 
some Hallowe’en plays and tricks that often 
seem both childish and reprehensible. I am 
going to propose you lay aside all these and 
instead let me give you a party with music, 
dancing and some refreshments. I will invite 
the young gentlemen of the neighborhood, 
many of whom you have met at church and 
elsewhere. What do you say?” 

“Oh, Mrs. Barrington, that is utterly love- 
ly." 

Phillipa Rosewald sprang up and clasped 
both hands. There was a bevy of girls about 
her and they all talked at once. 

“Understand, there are to be no tricks 
played in each other’s rooms. You have been 
making very good progress so far this year 
and I am sincerely pleased. As many of you 
will go away on Saturday there can be no 


86 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

Christmas festivities, but this may be quite as 
pleasant.” 

“Oh, Mrs. Barrington, it will be just de- 
lightful!” cried Phillipa with enthusiasm. 
“Thank you a dozen times for thinking of it.” 

“You have accepted some invitations from 
outside and it seems the thing to return them. 
Every girl will be at her liberty to ask one 
guest and there are several I wish to invite. 
I hope you will have a happy time.” 

“Oh, we are sure of that.” 

“And now I hope your scholarship will be 
excellent at the winter examinations. It will 
be the last year for some of you and for your 
parents’ sake I hope you will stand high.” 

The leisure of the next two days was spent 
working out lists. 

“Oh,” declared May Gedney, “I’d like to 
invite at least four. Ally and Archie Holmes, 
and the Pridhams. I suppose we can ask a 
young gentleman?” 

“Let us make a list and divide up. Archie 
Holmes is such a delightful dancer, and Allie 
is so full of fun, and so many of us were at her 
birthday party.” 

“Do you suppose the smaller fry will invite 
their friends?” 


Zaidee 87 

“I think not, though they may be allowed 
to come in as spectators.” 

‘ That Nevins girl is a pretty dancer. What 
lots of fancy things she knows.” 

“I don’t imagine we will have any high 
flings,” laughing. 

“Well, May, you ask Ally, and Nelly White 
ask Archie. That’s the way we must pair 
off, and divide up the Pridhams. We must 
only ask one girl in a family. I’m afraid we 
won’t have boys enough to go round.” 

“Then some of the girls will have to play 
Knights as we do in the practices.” 

After much study they presented their list 
to Mrs. Barrington who thought it very 
judicious. She said she had several gentle- 
men to add. 

Then there was a time about the frocks. 
Miss Nevins unpacked two party gowns that 
had remained in her trunk when it was taken 
up stairs. A pretty rather simple white 
cluna silk and a pink satin. 

‘ 'Oh, the satin is altogether too ornate, too 
really old,” declared Phillipa. 

“But it’s so much prettier,” longingly. 

“I don’t know about that, and I can tell you 
Mrs. Barrington will hustle it back in the 
box mighty quick. The party is for the older 


88 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


girls. You will simply be allowed in to look 
and partake of the treat if you are well be- 
haved little girls.” 

Miss Nevins pouted. 

Her new winter suit had come home and 
it was really admirable, making her look like 
quite a different girl. 

“I don’t see what that New York dress- 
maker can be thinking about. She makes 
a regular guy of her. And since Mrs. 
Barrington shut down on so much sweet stuff 
how her complexion has improved. But the 
morning baths are a terror to her. She is sure 
she can keep clean on a wash once a week.” 

“And girls, every time her mother wrote she 
enclosed five dollars. She didn’t give any 
account of that for awhile, and Mrs. Barring- 
ton was quite affronted when her mother ad- 
vised her to go to a restaurant now and then 
to get a good meal. I must say our living here 
is of the very best.” 

There was no dissenting voice. 

They were all in a gale about the party. 
There was always a lawn fete when school 
closed in June at which the girls invited rel- 
atives and friends. Hallowe’en had been de- 
voted to tricks in each other’s room,sewingup 
sheets, sprinkling cayenne pepper and rice, and 


Zaidee 


89 

occasionally putting a toad in the bed if one 
could be found, or an artificial one would an- 
swer the purpose. Mrs. Barrington had made 
some appeals, but this new plan was a decided 
success. The girls were gay and eager with 
delight, and wonder who of the young men of 
the town would be asked. 

Mrs. Barrington called Lilian in her room 
and spoke of the party, giving her a special 
invitation. 

“It is very kind of you,” the girl answered, 
“and I hope you will not think me ungrateful 
if I decline. I am not used to gayeties of this 
kind, and” — with a smile — “I have no party 
dress.” 

“That can easily be remedied. I really 
think you are making a mistake by effacing 
yourself so readily on all occasions. You are 
becoming a fine scholar and I am much inter- 
ested in your welfare. Your hour in the study 
room is not at all detrimental — ” 

“There are other things. Oh, Mrs. Bar- 
rington let me keep to my own sphere. I have 
always been poor, I have not been much among 
what are called better class girls, but I do know 
they have better advantages and are trained 
in pretty and attractive society ways. Public 
schools are more on a level. I am not finding 


90 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

fault. My heart is full of gladness for this 
lovely offer that came to my mother and me. 
Some of the young ladies have been very kind. 
Believe me I am happy, but I should feel out 
of place in a gay party.” 

She looked really beautiful standing there, 
the bright flush coming and going over her 
face, her mouth with its winsome curves, her 
eyes so full of gratitude and candor. What 
was the elusive remembrance? 

“You shall do as you like in this matter,” 
returned Mrs. Barrington. “But at the be- 
ginning of the new term I propose to have mat- 
ters on a somewhat different footing. You 
will end by being my best scholar.” 

“Oh, thank you a thousand times for taking 
so much interest in me. I hope I shall be able 
to repay you.” 

“My dear child some of the best things in 
the world are done without pay. Apprecia- 
tion is better and you have a great deal of 
that.” 

The party was a great success. Several of 
the older graduates were asked in. There 
was music, some conversational plays where 
quick wit was necessary and in this Phillipa 
excelled. Then the dancing was charming 
to the young crowd. They were very merry 


Zaidee 


9 1 


over the refreshments, then dancing again. 

“It’s been just delightful ! I never had such 
a good time in my life. Oh, Mrs. Barrington, 
how can we ever thank you,” and a dozen 
other glad acknowledgments. They were all 
tired enough to tumble into bed, with no 
thought of tricks to disturb them. 

Miss Nevins admitted that she had a first 
class time. “Only I wish I had been up in 
more dances. And if they’d had some fancy 
dances! I do love them so!” 

“Hardly at such a party,” said Phillipa, 
dryly. “And the maid of the evening who did 
not come. Do you suppose she was asked?” 
inquired Louie Howe.” 

“Oh, she would have come quick enough if 
she’d had anything to wear,” subjoined Miss 
Gedney. “Well, I’m glad she didn’t or wasn’t. 
It would have been rather embarrassing.” 

“When I meet her abroad in the capacity 
of attendant to some charming young lady I 
should not know her, of course.” 

There was a laugh at that. 

Then began the mouth of real study though 
there were a few heart burnings that Miss 
Boyd should come up to the best in some of 
the classes. 

November was unusually beautiful and the 


92 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

week of Indian summer a dream for a poet. 
Lilian’s afternoon hour out of doors was the 
concentration of delight. The handsome town, 
the picturesque houses, where late blooming 
flowers were a delight on many a lawn, the 
peaceful winding river whose shadows seemed 
to depict a fascinating underworld, the rising 
ground beyond with its magnificent trees, its 
tangled nooks of shrubbery with scarlet 
berries, so stirred Lilian’s fine nature that she 
felt as if she must burst into poesy. 

No, she would never give up the splendid, in- 
spiriting dreams of youth. Ambitious and noble 
natures are often haunted by romantic ideals and 
glimpses of the future reaching up to unharm- 
ful standards that did seem possible. These 
dreams were better than the feverish, vitiating 
novels some of the girls poured over in 
private. 

She was making a warm friend of Edith 
Trenham, who was often puzzled by her. 
How did she get this wonderful insight into 
such a beautiful world full of possible endeavor. 

The simple prettiness of the Trenham home 
was very charming to her. This was what she 
would make for her mother, only there would 
be a little more. Portfolios of engravings, a 
vase from Japan, a curious Indian ornament 


Zaidee 


93 


with ages back of it. Already Barrington 
House was shaping her taste in many matters. 

Then it was a pleasure to talk to the imagi- 
native Claire who reveled in the Knights of 
Arthur’s time, the tastes of Mythology which 
she twisted about to suit her fancy. 

“I like Miss Lilian so much,” she would 
say. “She has traveled in so many countries. 
She knows all about Eskimo babies and little 
Chinese girls who can’t go anywhere because 
they have such crooked feet. And we play 
at going to see them, and they give us such 
curious things to eat. And there are real 
little Greek children, who lived in Bible times. 
Oh, it’s just lovely!” 

“You make Claire very happy,” Edith 
would say in a fond tone. 

“I like to make her happy, and I want to 
make my mother happy. She has had such 
a hard life.” 

“You are a dear daughter.” 

Was she being a dear daughter to her 
mother? Mrs. Boyd seemed to grow more 
distant, more dreary and absent. Sometimes 
between classes she would run in and take her 
mother’s work, read to her evenings, but then 
she always fell asleep; but the girl went on. 
It was more company to read aloud. Just 


94 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

now she was deep in the making of Beautiful 
Florence. Oh, would she ever get to know all 
the famous cities of the world? 

How the time sped on! There was one 
snow storm, not a very deep one, but enough 
to call out the sleighs, and what a fairyland 
it made of Mount Morris. Saturday all the 
girls chipped in and hired a big sleigh and a 
laughing crew of ten had what they thought 
the merriest time of their lives. 

Just as they were getting out Louie Howe 
caught her skirt on something and there was a 
tear. 

“Oh, girls! My best Sundayskirt! And we 
— some of us are invited to Mrs. Westlake’s to 
dinner, and she goes away on Monday. Oh, 
I wonder if Mrs. Boyd can mend it fit to be 
seen! I can’t take it to the tailors now.” 

“She darns beautifully.” 

“Well, that’s what she’s here for; mender in 
general.” 

“But it seems dreadful to ask her to do it 
in the evening, and the daylight is almost 
gone.” 

Louie hated to give up whatever her mind 
was set upon. She hurriedly changed her 
frock and put on a light evening dress. With 
her skirt in hand she crossed the hall. The 


Zaidee 


95 


door stood open. The house was always 
warm. Mrs. Boyd sat in an easy chair. 
Helen on one of the fancy stools under the 
gas burner with a book in her hand. Louie 
swept past her. 

“Oh, Mrs. Boyd. I want you to mend my 
skirt. I've given it a dreadful tear. I can't 
take it to the tailors and four of us are invited 
out to dinner after church, so I must have it." 

Mrs. Boyd rose and examined it. “It is a 
bad tear, but if you must have it — ” 

“Yes, I surely must. O, I think you can 
do it. There's the whole evening." 

Then she turned away. Lilian's temper 
flared up at white heat. 

“Oh, mother, why didn't you tell her you 
could not? She has other dresses to wear. 
Let me take it back to her — " 

“No, dear, I'll do it. Light the lamp for 
me. Why you know that's part of my bus- 
iness," and Mrs. Boyd gave a tremulous little 
laugh. 

“I think Mrs. Barrington would not have 
such a thing done on Saturday night," was her 
resolute reply, but she lighted the lamp and 
brought her mother's work table with its 
handy cabinet. 

“You see a good part of it will go under 


g6 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

this plait. Oh "Lilian, do not mind such little 
things.” 

The insolent manner had hurt the girl 
keenly. Louie was on the promotion list and 
would graduate in June. She held her head 
very high. Her father had promised her a 
handsome watch with a beautiful neck chain 
that could be detached when required and she 
felt sure of it now. 

Mrs. Boyd basted the tear on a piece of 
cloth and began her work. 

“Lilian,” she said, “will you go and see if 
there is an iron on the range, and ask cook if 
I can come down by and by.” 

Then she began her work. The under- 
neath part at first, but somehow her hand 
trembled. Lilian watched with an indignant, 
aching heart. After awhile her mother leaned 
back with a sigh. 

“1 believe I shall have to get glasses,” she 
said wearily. “I cannot do fine work in the 
evening. I am afraid I shall spoil it, and I’ve 
always been such a neat worker.” 

“Let me finish,” said the girl. Every inch 
of her protested, but it was for her mother’s 
sake. Lately she had done several things to 
ease her. 

“Yes, let me,” she went on, taking the work 


Zaidee 


97 

from her mother’s hands. “You know I can 
darn nicely.” 

Lilian took infinite pains. It was slow 
work, but at last it was accomplished. 

“You are such a dear, good daughter, and 
it is said booky people are never anything 
with a needle, but you could get your living 
with it.” 

Then she took her work down stairs and 
came back flushed and smiling. 

“Look, Lilian,” in a tone of pride, “it hardly 
shows! Cook said she never saw more beau- 
tiful darning and that in a big city I could 
make a fortune at lace mending. Will you 
take it to Miss Howe?” 

“No, mother,” and Lilian spoke in a dig- 
nified but not unkindly manner. “We are 
not here to run and wait on the girl. Let Miss 
Howe come for it.” 

Mrs. Boyd felt disappointed. She wanted 
some one beside cook to praise her handiwork. 

Louie fidgeted about her skirt. She and 
Zay were in Phil’s room talking over the 
coming Christmas and Mrs. Crawford’s re- 
turn. 

“I wonder why that girl doesn’t bring my 
skirt. Maybe they’ve spoiled it.” 

“Have you sent a maid?” 


98 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“Why no. I meant Miss Boyd. Sheought’nt 
be above such things.” 

“Still, she isn’t here to run on errands. I 
think Mrs. Barrington treats her quite as if she 
were a scholar, and she’s a fine one, too.” 

“Some day she’ll brag of having been ed- 
ucated here, though Mount Morris doesn’t 
set out to furnish teachers, but the training 
of young ladies. Mother likes it because there 
was no opportunity of making undesirable 
acquaintances,” and Louie gave her head a 
toss. 

“Is Miss Nevins so very desirable?” asked 
Zay with a flash of mirth in her eye. 

“Still, if you mether abroad as a richbanker’s 
daughter or heard of her being presented to 
the Queen — ” 

“Girls, don’t quarrel about either one of 
them. Alice Nevins is a fool and always will 
be. Lilian Boyd is smart and ambitious but 
there is the bar sinister. Her mother isn’t 
the sort of person to come up in the world and 
when Miss Lilian gets there she’ll ship off her 
old mother, put her in an Old Woman’s Home. 
I despise that toss of her head, just as if she 
was up to the highest mark already; but they 
are not worth disputing about. 

Zaidee Crawford drew a long breath. She 


Zaidee 


99 


had almost courage enough to stand up for 
her, then she remembered some one had said 
you were never sure that some disgraceful 
thing might come out. Who knew anything 
about her father? There was a good deal of 
pride of birth at Mount Morris as is apt to be 
the case where well to do people have lived for 
a century or so. 

Louie sent a maid for her skirt and admitted 
that a tailor couldn’t have done it better. 

“Only a week” the girls said with their good 
night to each other. 

Not that they were so tired of school, but 
Christmas was a joyous occasion, and going 
home a treat. 


CHAPTER VI 


AN ESCAPADE AND WHAT CAME OF IT 

The closing week of school was full of girlish 
excitements. Friday and Saturday most of 
the girls would go home. Christmas came on 
the following Monday. The Miss Kirklands 
were going to remain and devote the time to 
study. Alice Nevins and Elma Ransome had 
no homes to go to at present. Mrs. Barring- 
ton generally took this for a resting-up time. 

Louie rushed into Phillipa’s room, breath- 
less and eyes full of wonder. There was some 
fancy things strewn around. Phil and Zaidee 
were at some gifts. 

“What now? Has there been a mistake in 
the calendar and is Christmas put off and are 
we to be aliens from the family bosom?” 

Louie laughed and fanned herself vigor- 
ously. 

“Eve been hearing wonderful things about 
that Clairvoyant. Do you really know what 
clairvoyance is? It isn’t mere fortune telling. 
Madge Hayne went the other day and she 
was told some really remarkable things. 
They had not heard from that brother in a 
year and didn’t know whether he was dead 
or alive. She said they would hear from him 
100 


IOI 


An Escapade 

and that he would return soon with a fortune, 
and this very morning the letter came. He’s 
been in Alaska and British Columbia and 
goodness knows where all, and he’s tired of 
rambling and hardships. So he’s coming 
home as he has made his pile, which I suppose 
means a fortune. They are all just wild with 
joy, and there are to be two marriages this 
year.” 

“Then Madge’s lover will get his promo- 
tion. That is what sheis waitingfor,” laughed 
Phil. “But I have heard that the woman 
told some wonderful things.” 

“And while we were abroad in the summer 
Aunt Kate and I took litle tours around; we 
were at a Fair in a small town where there 
were some real Romany gypsies and one in- 
sisted on reading Aunt Kate’s future. She 
spoke of mamma’s walking without crutches, 
which we couldn’t believe and said after we 
came home something mysterious would hap- 
pen to us, that a member of the family would 
come from a great distance, that the person 
who had her in charge would die, but Aunt 
Kate laughed and said we had had no myster- 
ious marriages nor sudden disappearances, so 
that could hardly come true.” 

Phillipa had been considering. “Girls let’s 


102 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


go,” she exclaimed. “Mrs. Barrington didn’t 
actually forbid it. She said: ‘Girls I hope 
none of you will be foolish enough to spend 
your money on such nonsense. Those people 
are generally impostors.’ I’d like to have a 
peep into the future. There’s a young man I 
am interested in. Now, if he’s all fair and 
square and means business — ” 

“You’re always on the anxious seat of 
lovers,” said Louie, “and you seem to have 
them by dozens.” 

“I want the very best and richest. Girls, 
my mother was married when she was seven- 
teen, and I’ll be nineteen in June;butshedidn’t 
go to boarding school for three years and waste 
her time.” 

“And I want a tour abroad — a winter or 
summer in Paris — which is most attractive, 
and there may be a little chance of some one 
leaving father a fortune. Oh, let us go — just 
for the fun if nothing else,” and Louie glanced 
up in her radiant prettiness. 

There is something tempting to the young 
in a peep in the wide mysterious future. Joys 
and the so-called good luck are delights to 
hope for and it is seldom that any dark pages 
are unfolded to youth. So the girls talked 
and agreed to go the next afternoon. 


io3 


An Escapade 

Examinations were in the morning and the 
girls had the afternoon to themselves. Four 
were going to a musicale, half a dozen to do 
some last shopping. 

“We’ll put on something out of the ordinary 
line,” said Phil. “Hoods and veils and I’ll 
wear my old gray coat. Mother would make 
me bring it and I’ve not had it on once. 
We’ll trot across the park, shortest route, and 
hold our heads down.” 

“And then run round to Crawford House 
and have some hot chocolate,” said Zay. 

It was a winter when Tam o’ Shanters were 
all the rage. Zay had a white one with two 
fluffy rose-colored rosettes. As she passed 
through the hall she saw Clara Arnold’s blue 
one lying on the bed. She had always tabooed 
blue. Now with a sudden impulse she put it 
on. Clara had gone to the musicale and would 
not be home until late. Then she gathered up 
her curls and stuffed them in the crown. Yes, 
she did suggest the Boyd girl. The resem- 
blance teased her, and the girls had found that 
out. She wound a veil around her head and 
they stole through the hall when it was de- 
serted and went scuddering through the Park. 

It was a cloudy afternoon, not one to go out 
for pleasure, and then everybody had wanted 


104 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

to go down town. Mrs. Trenham lived in the 
corner house. There was a garden space be- 
tween, then a high fence. Phillipa rang the 
bell. 

A rather unkempt, middle-aged woman an- 
swered it. 

“Could we see the Clairvoyant?” 

“Well,” hesitatingly. “All of you? I’m 
rather — yes, walk in.” 

The room was untidy, the books on the table 
dusty, and some clothing thrown over several 
chairs. 

“Young girls always want a peep in the 
future,” and she gave an abrupt laugh. 
“You don’t any of you look as if you needed 
medical advice. My, I seldom see such rosy, 
good looking girls. Now, I’ll tell you — it’s a 
dollar if I go into a trance and see you inside, 
up and down and I can tell to a T whether 
there’s anything the matter. But I don’t 
believe you want that. S’pose I just run over 
the cards and see what kind of a Christmas 
you’re going to have and how many lovers and 
who’s going to wear a diamond. That’s fifty 
cents.” 

“That’s enough to spend on such foolery,” 
laughed Phillipa. 

She pushed out some chairs and took up a 


io 5 


An Escapade 

pack of cards, threw them aside and took a 
clean pack off of the mantlepiece. “Now you 
try first,” motioning to Phillipa. “Why I can 
see by your face there’s lots of fortune coming 
to you. You’re the kind of girl men quarrel 
over.” 

She had become a very astute reader of 
faces and could tell by the brightening of an 
eye or the movement of a feature whether she 
was on the right tack. 

“Your home isn’t here and you are going to 
it in a few days. You see — here’s the house 
and there’s a distance between,” pointing 
out the cards. “They are making a big time 
and lots of company, a great Christmas dinner, 
and a dance in the evening, and you’ll get 
kissed under the mistletoe — but you won’t 
marry that man. There’s two of them — 
three of them and two offers of marriage. 
Some one you haven’t seen much of, and 
there’ll be talk of a diamond.” 

She shuffled the cards and ran over them 
again, enlarging upon the lovers and jealous 
girls as well as men, presents and fun. “But 
you’re going to turn your back on it all and 
you don’t want to a bit, and you’re going to 
have some trouble, and a journey with a 
trunk, and — why you’ll be in school and you’ll 


io6 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


be most crazy to hear from the young man with 
the diamond, but you just keepyourfaith, hell 
be all right and there’ll be a wedding before 
the leaves fall. Oh, you’ll be as happy as a 
queen.” 

Phillipa laughed and nodded. 

“Now, you next,” to Zaidee. 

Zay hesitated, but took the chair Phillipa 
vacated. 

At first she seemed a puzzle to the fortune 
teller. “She had traveled a good deal. Some 
one was coming across water that she would be 
glad to see — three people, a fair lady who had 
had a great deal of trouble, sickness, but was well 
now. Why they would soon be here and all 
have Christmas dinner together. There would 
be a great surprise with a fair young man who 
cared a great deal for her, and there were won- 
derful surprises that wouldn’t make her happy 
at first. Here was a strange girl — but she 
doesn’t want to come. Gifts and friends, and 
this stout man — your father,” and she knew 
by Zay’s face she had guessed right. “He is 
very fond of you — oh, you needn’t ever be 
afraid any one will crowd you out. Plenty of 
lovers, too, when it comes your time; a happy 
marriage and children, and prosperity. A 
little sickness, but nothing to be alarmed about. 



Went Scudding Through the Park 

(Chap. 6. Girls at Mt. Morris) 








io7 


An Escapade 

Louie’s fortune did not seem so serene. 
“She was at school and would go home to keep 
Christmas. This was elaborated in very 
agreeable styles. Then she would come back, 
but she would be troubled about a prize, be 
disappointed in a girl friend who would try 
to injure her and who would say mean things, 
but she must not mind them. Then there 
were journeys and pleasures and lovers, but 
she would not marry very young and would 
be engaged twice, and oddly enough be mar- 
ried the second time.” 

Then they rose, gathered up their wraps and 
the fortune teller her money, with profuse 
wishes for their happiness and a merry Christ- 
mas, and shut the door. Zay was leading and 
opened the hall door, stepping out on the 
stoop. 

“Oh, my goodness! There’s the Dane across 
the way! Let us run out back and across lots” 
and they started in a huddle, opening the door 
that led to another room. 

“You can’t come in here,” declared a voice 
but they pushed through to the outer door, 
flew down the path and across a space over 
to the next street, but did not stop until they 
had reached the side gate to Crawford House. 


io8 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


“It's only three of us girls,” exclaimed Zay. 
“We are going to my room.” 

Then they stood in breathless terror, look- 
ing in each other’s faces. Phillipa gave a half 
hysterical laugh, dropped into a chair and went 
on laughing. 

“I don’t see anything funny,” said Louie. 
“And to come so near being caught! Do you 
suppose the Dane was watching out — sus- 
pecting? And that horrid smell in the room, 
and the girl holding up one of those boys who 
was struggling for breath — ” 

“You had a good view, Louie,” sarcasticaliy. 

“Well, I was behind. Oh, what if it was 
small pox?” and Louie was white as a ghost. 

“Small pox! Louie don’t be an idiot! See 
here, we’d heard a thing like that quick enough. 
Now I’ll tell you — Zay have you any aromatic 
ammonia? Let’s all take a dose to quiet our 
nerves and ward off whatever it may be, and 
get a lump of gum camphor to take to bed 
with us tonight, and Louie if you dare to act 
suspicious I’ll murder you.” 

“I don’t think it was just the thing for her 
to let us in if there was any sickness.” 

“I wanted a real Clairvoyant. They do tell 
you wonderful things, but she hit a good deal 
about you, Zay. I wonder who is coming to 


An Escapade 109 

try to oust you out? Oh, maybe your brother 
will bring home a wife.” 

“I shouldn’t like that,” the girl said frankly. 
“And maybe he will be sent on a three years’ 
cruise and leave her with us!” 

“Nonsense ! Don’t bother your pretty curly 
head. Here let us all take our composing 
draught and then wend our way to school with 
a bold front. Only we must have some other 
hats.” 

“I’ll wear my Gainsborough, and you, Phil, 
shall have my brown turban with the bunch 
of plumes. Louie — ” 

“Let me wear the black straw with those 
yellow daisies. I almost grudge that to you.” 

“Then take it as a Christmas gift.” 

The cook stopped them in the hall and said 
they must have a cup of hot chocolate. The 
wind was blowing up cold. 

Then they started home in very good 
spirits. It was well they had changed their 
headgear. Mrs. Dane sat in the hall looking 
over some mail. She glanced up and nodded, 
but she had some suspicions and she meant 
to see who came home wearing a light blue 
Tam. 

Zay flung her borrowed article on Miss 


i io The Girls at Mt. Morris 


Arnold's bed. She had not come home from 
the musicale yet. 

Lilian Boyd had gone out for her usual walk. 
She wanted to see some pretty things Claire 
was making for Christmas, but before she 
reached the corner she saw Edith Trenham 
coming rapidly from her mother's, so she 
halted. 

“Oh, Lilian — don't go. You can't see 
Claire—" 

“Is she ill?" in affright. 

“No, no, only — come with me to the drug- 
gist; I can't tell you just now — oh, I'll write 
you a note. You cannot go there this week. 
Mother has a friend staying with her and I 
have gone to Mrs. Lane’s to board for a week, 
there is so much school work just now." 

“How very mysterious you are," studying 
her while she colored under the scrutiny. 

“Well, it threatens snow and it would be 
easier for me there. Don't worry about us — 
I'll WTite this evening and tell you the ‘whys;' 
and now dear, don't feel vexed if I leave you. 
I have a number of errands to do, and I'll 
surely see you on Sunday." 

She had taken a few steps, then she turned 
and said: “Lilian, do not mention meeting 


1 1 1 


An Escapade 

me today; I ask it as a favor. I will explain 
it all to you. Trust me.” 

What did it mean? Was Claire ill? She 
had never seen Miss Trenham so confused. 
Evidently she could not have her come to the 
house. Lilian felt curiously dismal. There 
were the shops in holiday attire, but she said 
she did not feel joyous, Christmasy. She 
rambled about a little. There was the Clair- 
voyant’s sign. Could any one tell about the 
future, even another’s health? For, somehow 
it seemed as if her mother had been curiously 
distraught of late. If she could know about 
the future! Oh, her mother must live the 
year out, and she was learning a great many 
things. She would do for an under teacher 
then, and by the time she was twenty — 

It was cloudy and raw and she hurried up a 
little. A merry group of girls passed her 
laughing and chatting. Why, she had never 
felt so alone, not even back in Laconia. Last 
Christmas had been gay and pleasant with 
girls in Sunday and every-day school. 

She went in at the side entrance. She could 
have taken the other but this was nearer. She 
had the right to a good many privileges that 
under some circumstances she would have 
claimed, but the supercillious nod or the lifting 


1 12 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

of the brows cut like a knife. Her place was 
on her mother’s side. 

Mrs. Dane opened her door on the landing 
and crossed the hall. 

“Oh, you have returned. Did you see your 
friend, MissTrenham?” There was something 
curious in the tone. 

“Ididnot go to the house.” Yet she colored 
as if it was a prevarication. 

“No?” was all the comment in thesametone. 

But her mother was not so easily put off. 

“Did you see your pretty invalid friend and 
her Christmas work?” 

“No, I did not go in.” 

“That’s queer. I thought you were going 
there. Where, then, did you go?” 

“Oh, I only walked around and said over 
French verbs. It’s grown very chilly.” 

“Yes. Miss Arran came in and opened a 
window. I felt so cold — I wish people would 
let you have your room as you want it. They 
can swing their’s wide open if they want to.” 

She was lying on the bed. She looked old 
and gray and wrinkled. 

“Do you feel poorly, mother?” 

“No, not when I am good and warm.” 

“Shall we have tea together here?” 


An Escapade 113 

“I don’t want any, I’m very comfortable 
now. You go and get yours.” 

But Lilian sent for it, yet she could not per- 
suade her mother to taste the toast or the bit 
of broiled steak. She was hungry. 

Afterward she took up her book to study as 
she was not due down stairs. Then there was 
a tap at the door. 

“Mrs. Barrington would like to see you in 
her room,” was the message. 

She walked thither. Mrs. Dane sat there 
in her austerest fashion. 

“Miss Boyd,” she said, “were you at your 
friend’s, Mrs. Trenham’s, this afternoon?” 

Lilian flushed at the repeated question. 

“I was not,” she said rather hesitatingly. 
“I meant to go, but” — then she paused. She 
must not say she met Edith. 

Mrs. Barrington’s penetrating eyes were 
fixed on her face and brought a vivid color to 
it. 

“Were you at any other person’s house?” 

“No, I was not,” she answered quietly. 
Oh, what does it all mean? 

“Do you mean to deny that you were at 
the Clairvoyant’s from half past four to about 
five?” Mrs. Dane said in her most judicial 


manner. 


1 14 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

Lilian flushed indignantly but her voice was 
unsteady as she said — “I was not there, if 
you” — then she paused. 

“Think again. I saw you walking about 
nearly at the corner. I went to make a call 
on a friend who is ill. When I came out I 
walked a few doors, when I saw the Clair- 
voyant’s door open and a girl stepped out on 
the stoop. I think there was some one be- 
hind her. She saw me and bolted back in the 
hall. There are just two girls in the school 
who have light blue Tams. Miss Arnold went 
to a musicale and found hers lying on the bed 
just where she left it. I watched, but you 
did not come out again. Then I walked 
around to the rear but saw no one. I had a 
fair glance at your face, I think I cannot be 
mistaken.” 

Lilian was speechless with amazement. 

“I met Miss Trenham at the side of the 
park and we walked together a short distance, 
Believe it or not, I went to no one’s house.” 

“It is important for us to know the truth 
on account of the terrible ending,” said Mrs. 
Barrington gravely. “Two boys have been 
ill with what their mother thought was measles. 
The doctor was not sent for until noon, and 
did not get there until nearly six. He found 


An Escapade 1 1 5 

one boy dead of malignant scarlet fever, the 
other dying and one girl seriously ill. So you 
see we cannot afford to have contagion brought 
in the house !” 

“Oh, what a horrible thing!” Lilian cried. 
Then she faced Mrs. Dane. “Oh, you are 
mistaken, as God hears me, I was not in that 
house nor on that side of the street,” and she 
almost gasped for breath. 

“You may go to your room. You will be 
excused from study hour tonight. We must 
consider. I am glad it is so near closing time.” 

Lilian felt like one dazed. Yet she was 
passionately indignant when she had reached 
her room. There might be other blue Tams 
in the town but she did not remember to have 
seen many in light blue except Miss Arnold’s. 
Somehow, Mrs. Dane had never taken to her 
cordially like Miss Arran and the teachers. 

Mrs. Barrington was much distressed. She 
had become warmly interested in Lilian. She 
had smiled a little over Mrs. Dane’s strictures. 

“There’s something about her, a sort of 
loftiness that doesn’t belong to her life, though 
she takes things with outward calmness, but I 
have a feeling that some day she will break out 
in anawful tempest, and I doubt her being 
that woman’s daughter. Mrs. Boyd never 


1 1 6 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


talks frankly about her,” Mrs. Dane said, 
severely. 

“But she is devoted to the poor mother.” 

“Well, it seems so,” rather reluctantly. 

After dinner Mrs. Barrington summoned 
Miss Arran and laid the matter before her. 
She listened with a kind of terrified interest. 

“I can’t believe Miss Boyd would tell such 
a dreadful falsehood, when she saw the neces- 
sity of the truth. Mrs. Dane has very strong 
prejudices. That Nevins girl is about her 
size and has a long braid of fair hair.” 

“Oh, she was in disgrace in her room, but 
what a horrible thing that it should have gone 
on without even a physician, or any care to 
prevent the spread of contagion. Well — I 
suppose tomorrow it will be all over town. I 
I gave Matthew strict orders to say nothing 
about it tonight.” 

Presently Mrs. Barrington knocked at Mrs. 
Boyd’s door. Lilian opened it. She had been 
crying. Now she stretched out her hands im- 
ploringly. 

“Oh, Mrs. Barrington you cannot believe 
I would tell you such a cruel, willful false- 
hood! I was not even very near that house. 
After all your kindness to me — ” 

“There, dear, I believe you. I know there 


An Escapade 117 

has been some mistake. Mrs. Dane has al- 
ways been so anxious, one might say jealous 
for my welfare, and you see this would mean 
a great deal to me. You must pardon her 
until the truth comes out.” 

“Oh, thank you a thousand times,” cried 
Lilian in broken tones, her eyes suffused with 
tears. 

“You need not come down to the study this 
evening. How is your mother?” 

“She is having a lovely sleep.” 

“Do not say anything to her, and the girls 
will be going away before there is any real 
fright. I do not anticipate any danger with 
us. Be comforted. We shall hear all to- 
morrow.” 

Lilian was almost happy. She had not lost 
her dear friend. Under any other circum- 
stances Lilian would have given Mrs. Bar- 
rington an unreasoning adoration. She could 
not define it to herself. She liked Miss Arran, 
but this was beyond a mere kindly liking. 

“She believes in me, she believes in me,” 
and the girl poured the fragrant balm on her 
wounded heart. But there seemed an awful 
undefined fear. 


CHAPTER VII 


A SUPREME MOMENT 

The girls in the study were looking furtively 
at one another. Was this a sort of surprise 
to be sprung upon them? 

“Oh, Miss Marsh, do you know what this 
means? I can’t make beginning or middle 
out of it. Why doesn’t Miss Boyd come?” 

“Yes, where is airy fairy Lilian? I think 
some other life she must have been a soundless 
ghost. You look up and she is there. Then 
she disappears.” 

“I’m glad some of the girls will have to 
stay through vacation,” said Alice Nevins. 
“It will be awful poky, I wish I could go to 
New York and the theatre every night.” 

“Every other night would do for me,” said 
Phillipa, and here I’ve two French exercises 
to go over. One has five errors — blunders, 
and the other three. Madame Eustice wants 
to go at twelve tomorrow. Miss Vincent do 
take pity on me when you go to Paris. I’ve 
heard it said you can’t talk it until you’ve 
studied it all over again. Oh, what’s the use 
of so much weariness of heart and brain!” 

No one came. Then in girl fashion they 
stirred up a sort of gale, saying funny things 
118 


A Supreme Moment 119 

and making droll misquotations, or putting 
the wrong name to others and wondering what 
would be in the Christmas stockings. 

“I must leave a pack behind to be darned 
up. I hope I'll get two boxes of new ones. 
Girls, you wouldn’t dare offer your old ones 
to Miss Boyd, would you? I have some pretty 
ones and those plaited silk. They wear better 
than real silk. Mother thinks they’re good 
enough for school.” 

“I don’t suppose Miss Boyd has any rela- 
tives. It would be rather tough not to have 
any gifts. Girls, oughtn’t we chip in — ” 

“No, we ought not,” replied Phil, decisively. 
“The maid and the laundress are the only 
ones I remember at Christmas. Mrs. Bar- 
rington has sensibly forbidden the giving of 
tips, and since we don’t pretend to be friends 
it would be a bad precedent.” 

“Miss Boyd is an excellent scholar,” said 
Miss Vincent. 

“If she couldn’t learn something higher she 
might as well stay on the lower rounds,” 
sneered some one. “They relegate these 
things better in England. A housemaid’s 
daughter is generally a housemaid.” 

“I think I have heard of people coming up 


120 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


from the ranks in favored England,” was the 
dry rejoinder. 

“Oh, let’s let her alone. She’ll make her 
way with that high head of hers. Perhaps 
she will be President of some college yet.” 

Then they went back to fun. At nine Miss 
Arran came in and dismissed them. 

Zay was thinking how solitary the girl must 
be. Oh, if her mother were not the general 
mender! Even if she were a sort of charity 
scholar! And she was going to have such a 
splendid Christmas. Her dear, beloved moth- 
er able to get about by herself, and all the rest 
of their lives to be such friends, to go abroad 
together, to visit picture galleries, points of 
interest and compare notes. For Mrs. Craw- 
ford had been finely educated and even the 
prospect of being an invalid for life had not 
made her relax her hold on intellectuality. 
She had been a delightful friend to her boys 
and they were proud enough of her, but Zay 
would always be her supreme darling. 

Some of the last exercises and conditions 
were marked off the next day. Madame 
Eustice and two of the girls went home. A 
box came for MissNevinsandthegirls thronged 
around at her invitation while Nat drew out 


A Supreme Moment 121 

the nails that had fastened it securely, and 
lifted out a lighter box. 

“That's from Madame I know, and I have 
frocks enough here for winter. Oh, that's 
a splendid fruit cake, and nuts and that's 
candied orange and a box of fruit, and this is 
some sort of jewelry.” 

She tore off the wrapping eagerly. A long 
lapis lazuli chain with a beautiful pendant and 
links of exquisite color, and a pair of bracelets 
to match. 

“It's elegant,” pronounced Phillipa. “I 
never go crazy over it myself and it seems too 
old for a girl; the sort of thing for a dowager 
to wear on state occasions. Now, let us see 
the frock.” 

A beautiful, fine albatross cloth in itself ap- 
propriate, but betrimmed with pipings of 
satin and lace. 

“Why it looks like a wedding gown. You'll 
have to save it for there will be no occasion 
to wear it here. Not even graduation and 
the lawn fete, for then we all wear simple white 
muslin. That is Mrs. Barrington's law.” 

“Oh, dear, and it is so beautiful!” on a half 
cry. “You see, mamma thought being a high- 
up school there would be parties and all that. 
Last winter in New York I went to three and 


122 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


oh, you should have seen the dresses! I had 
one of blue gauze over thin satin and it was 
just lovely, and the dancing was simply great, 
and here you never go any where.” 

“We come here to improve our minds,” 
said some one sententiously 

“I’d like some real fun and gayety, and think 
that I must stay all alone here.” 

“There will be five girls to keep you com- 
pany.” 

“But there’s no fun or parties or anything. 
Oh, let’s cut the cake. I shan’t enjoy it 
when I am alone.” 

It was a real treat, and the nuts and sweets 
were a feast. They had not much appetite 
for luncheon. 

“But did you ever see anything so idiotic 
as that lovely frock for such a girl and a place 
like this where you do not go to high-up par- 
ties,” said one of the girls in a group, after- 
ward. “And what it must have cost! It 
really ought to be returned as very unsuit- 
able.” 

“What can the mother be like, and isn’t 
the father a politician or a contractor?” with 
a laugh. 

“No,” returned Phillipa. “I asked father 
to find out about them. Mr. Nevins is a 


A Supreme Moment 123 

reputable banker, a very good judge of loans 
and is rated quite highly in London. Then 
he buys curios and pictures, so he must have 
some taste. Think what that silly girl will 
have, enough to make any three girls of us 
fancy ourselves heroines of the Arabian Nights ; 
but the mother can’t have any sense.” 

“I think the modistes are largely to blame. 
No doubt the mother ordered a handsome 
evening dress, and the woman made it hand- 
some and expensive and quite useless. You 
don’t see Zay Crawford with any such things!” 

“Zay is beauty unadorned.” 

“And Miss Nevins is ugliness intensified. 
I am really sorry for her, though she has im- 
proved a very little. But when you think of 
the place she might take in society — ” 

“And the journeys!” 

“Still, I wouldn’t want such a mother.’ 

Phillipa went to her room to finish her 
Latin verses. 

“Though why you should be compelled to 
write Latin verses when you can’t make 
decent English rhymes I don’t see,” she 
grumbled. 

She was almost through when the door flew 
open and shut again with a bang and Louie 
Howe threw herself on the floor clasping 


124 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

Phillipa’s knees, her eyes distraught with 
terror. 

“Oh, isn’t it horrible!” she almost shrieked. 
“Those boys had malignant scarlet fever! 
That one was dying the girl held up, he was 
choking awfully, and at nine o’clock the other 
one died. It’s all in the morning’s paper. I 
think they hid it away. Miss Vincent picked 
it up in the library. Oh, what can we do?” 

“You can stop screaming and get up.” 
Phillipa fairly dragged her up and shook her 
violently. “Hush! hush!” she commanded. 
“You’ll have the whole faculty in here, and 
we’ll be bundled out bag and baggage. Have 
a little regard for Zay and me if you have none 
for yourself.” 

Phillipa drew up the willow rocker and 
pushed Louie in it. “Don’t have hysterics if 
that is what you’re aiming at or I’ll douse you 
with cold water until you’re half drowned.” 

Louie was sobbing now. “I can’t help it, 
and think of the dreadful risk we ran! That 
woman ought to be sent to prison.” 

“That woman was going on with her bus- 
iness, earning her living. We were the fools! 
How did they know it was scarlet fever?” 

“Well, she thought it was measles and was 
doctoring them, but one of them grew so much 


A Supreme Moment 125 

worse she sent for Dr. Lewis and he was so 
busy he didn’t get there until five, just as the 
boy died, and the other one hadn’t seemed 
so bad, but he died at nine, and the youngest 
girl has the fever. Dr. Lewis sent for the 
undertaker right away and they put something 
on the bodies and sealed up the coffin and they 
were to be buried this morning and the clothes 
to be burned and the house fumigated. Oh, 
isn’t it horrible! The woman ought to go to 
prison.” 

“ After losing her two children?” 

“Well, to give us all scarlet fever, malignant 
scarlet fever?” with emphasis. 

Phillipa was quivering in every nerve. But 
she must control Louie. 

“Well, we shouldn’t have gone there. I 
think she ought not have let us in but just said 
she couldn’t admit customers. Now, what are 
you going to do?” 

“I — I — what can I do? I s’pose I’ll have 
scarlet fever — ” 

“You can give the thing away and be sent 
home in disgrace. You’ll lose your watch and 
perhaps not get in another school. You can 
spoil Zay Crawford’s life for the present, just 


126 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


when it has reached the loveliest point of 
all— 

“And you?” 

Louie stopped sobbing and studied her com- 
panion in wonder. 

“I’m not going to have scarlet fever. Those 
children haven’t been sick a week. Scarlet 
fever is taken from the little flakes that peel 
off when the skin begins to dry up. We 
surely didn’t get any of those. We went right 
out in the fresh air and I breathed in a big 
supply, the room had been so close. Two of 
mother’s children had scarlet fever and she 
took care of them. None of the others had 
it. It’s half fright; just pull yourself together 
and don’t be an idiot and you’ll come through 
ah right.” 

“Oh, Phil! I wish I had your courage.” 

“You have courage enough only you won’t 
use it. Just feel certain nothing is going to 
happen and you’ll come out all right. We’re 
going home so soon that for our sakes you 
might summon a little courage. If you go 
on this way Louie you’ll be — what is it they 
call hysterical people? Neurasthenics, I be- 
lieve. I mean to have a jolly good time with 
plenty of lovers and dances and fun md get 


A Supreme Moment 127 

married. I’m not going to be a sighing, whim- 
sical old maid, borrowing trouble.” 

“Oh, dear!” and she fell to sobbing again. 

“Now, Louie, let me give you some ammonia 
and you lie here on my bed while I finish this 
exercise. Get asleep if you can.” 

“Oh, how good you are in real trouble, 
Phil.” 

“Humph ! You don’t know what real trouble 
is. To be smashed up in a railroad accident 
or run over by a trolley or bitten by a mad 
dog, such things might make your hair turn 
white. There now, don’t let me hear another 
word out of you.” 

She settled Louie on her bed and covered her 
over with a shawl, listening every few mo- 
ments. The sighing breath became more reg- 
ular, there were two or three gentle snores. 
Phillipa rose presently, went cautiously to the 
door and placed the key on the outside, then 
locked it softly. Louie might sleep half an 
hour. 

Just as she turned Zay ran into her arms. 
“Oh Phil — we’ve just had word. The steamer 
will be in this evening. Aunt Kate has sent 
over and I am to be dismissed. We go to New 
York tomorrow morning. Oh, it seems too 
blessed to be true, but mother hasn’t lost any 


128 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


ground. What a lovely Christmas we shall 
have!” 

“And Fm glad enough for your sake, Zay. 
Fve teased you about looking like that Boyd 
girl, and I dragged you off into danger, but 
if anything should happen to you I never could 
forgive myself.” 

“I don’t believe we were in any great 
danger. I hunted up father’s big medico- 
something and read about scarlet fever. You 
don’t take it very easily, but oh, wasn’t it 
dreadful for the poor woman! Only I think 
she oughtn’t have let us in. The town au- 
thorities are going to send them away as soon 
as they can. Oh, good-by — but I’ll see you 
when we come back.” 

“I’ll keep tab on Louie. We must just hold 
together. It won’t do for the thing to leak 
out. I was a ninny to propose such a thing. 
They kissed each other and walked down 
stairs together. Most of the girls were in the 
school room discussing the newspaper account. 
The town was clean and in excellent shape, 
there were no fears of an epidemic and even 
now Dr. Lewis was not quite sure but it’s 
origin was measles, since the little girl had a 
decided case. The strictest watch would be 
kept. The clothes and some rubbish had been 


A Supreme Moment 129 

burned. The clairvoyant’s knowledge of the 
future was held up to withering ridicule. 

Louie Howe had a long, refreshing nap and 
woke up in much better heart. The short 
day ended by a little gymnasium practice but 
all the girls were rather nervous over the 
affair. 

“Why, I had the scarlet fever once,” an- 
nounced Miss Nevins, “and mamma would 
have three doctors!” 

“And you lived through all that?” laughed 
some one. “Then scarlet fever can’t be dan- 
gerous.” 

“I don’t remember being very sick, and then 
father sent us to Bermuda. It was when the 
lilies were in bloom. It’s such a lovely place !” 

“Young ladies,” began Mrs. Barrington as 
they rose from the table, “as our work is about 
done I have decided to dismiss school. Some 
of your parents may see this sensational ac- 
count, and everything does get so exaggerated. 
There is not the slightest fear of an epidemic, 
but you will all be glad of a little longer holi- 
day. I hope you will all return in good 
health and the resolve to do your best towards 
finishing your year in the best possible man- 


130 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“You believe there isn’t real danger?” 
asked Miss Kingsland. 

“There have been no cases about the town 
to indicate an epidemic. The little girl’s case 
seems to be not very serious as her fever is 
abating. Oh, I think we at least need not 
feel the slightest alarm. We have no slums to 
foster contagion.” 

Still, the two sudden deaths had created a 
frightened sort of impression. The girls kept 
discussing them until Phillipa protested. 

“Who is going home tomorrow?” she asked. 
“After all it is only a day sooner, and who has 
their Christmas gifts done up? Must we save 
our jolliness until we get home? We are all 
coming back in a fortnight, and spring comes 
so soon after the holidays, and there’s pegging 
away at everything and finally graduation.” 

Some began to hunt up trains, others went 
to packing. Phillipa kept Louie near her and 
made funny unsentimental speeches until the 
old feeling seemed quite restored. Some 
gifts were exchanged, some guesses as to what 
home presents would be and they said good- 
night in the best of spirits. 

“Now, Louie,” began Phil, escorting her to 
her door, “if you get a granny fit in the night 
and see horrible things, you just come to my 


A Supreme Moment 13 i 

room and hop into bed with me, and think 
what a gay time you’ll be having tomorrow 
night this time, much gayer than Miss Nevins 
with all her money and her three party frocks 
with no place to display them.” 

Louie laughed. “Oh, Phil, you’re such a 
comfort,” she said with an extravagant hug, 
“but aren’t you going home tomorrow?” 

“No, not until Friday. I want to see Zay 
before I go, and I’m not afraid of unlucky 
Friday either,” laughing. 

Louie slept soundly and was in very good 
spirits. The girls were all eager for the 
morning paper. The scare was pretty well 
over. The boys had been buried, the little 
girl was no worse and if fever did not develop 
it would simply be a case of measles. 

Then most of the girls said good-by, wishing 
each other a merry Christmas. The others 
huddled together and bewailed their hard lot, 
missing Miss Boyd very much. Her mother 
was quite poorly, which was given as her ex- 
cuse. Mrs. Dane insisted upon a rigorous ex- 
clusion until all danger of contagion was over. 

Quite late in the afternoon Phillipa walked 
over to Crawford House and sent up her card 
to Zaidee with a penciled message. The girl 
came flying through the hall, more beautiful 


132 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

than ever Phil thought, in her soft red cash- 
mere with white lace garnishings. 

“Oh, Phil dear, Pm so glad to see you! I 
was afraid you would go home before I had a 
glimpse of you. We've been so busy and so 
full of joy! Oh, you can't think what it is 
to see mother walking around with no crutches 
and the wheel chair set aside, and she's in such 
splendid spirits. Vincent will be allowed to 
come home as a special favor to papa, getting 
here early Monday morning and returning that 
night. We're just going to have a family 
dinner with a very few dear friends, but New 
Year's night I am to have a party. Oh, can't 
you come back a little sooner. I'd like so to 
have you." 

“I don't believe I can, and you know there 
are the lovers and the diamond ring" — laugh- 
ing. 

“Oh, dear! Can you believe any of it? 
And the surprise that I'm not going to be 
pleased with. It isn’t that Willard has fallen 
in love, he is going to have his three years' 
cruise first. Oh, were you much frightened, 
Phil? It was dreadful, and no one can tell 
where the boys took the disease. I can't 
help feeling sorry for the poor mother if she is 


A Supreme Moment 133 

a humbug, it is such a sad Christmas for her, 
and was Louie much frightened?” 

( ‘Oh, she almost went into hysterics and 
I was afraid she’d give us all away, but I did 
manage to get her off safely, and bound her 
by the most solemn promises not to mention 
the escapade at home. It wasn’t the right 
thing for us to do of course, but mischief al- 
ways looks so tempting to you and if we keep 
silence no harm will be done. It wasn’t as 
bad as they thought.” 

A shudder went over Zay’s slight figure. 

“And I am so glad you didn’t worry your- 
self ill,” Phillipa rejoined with real feeling. 

“Phil, can’t you stay to dinner and see 
mother? She’s lying down now — there have 
been so many calls. Father brought home the 
German nurse, who measures off her time in a 
very funny manner, and he escorts mother 
down stairs and up again as if he was a young 
lover.” 

“No, dear, thank you. When I come back 
the rush will be over and we will have a good 
time. I’ve twenty things to do and start at 
nine tomorrow. Good-by and have just the 
most splendid time, as I shall have. So good 
luck for a fortnight,” and they kissed each 
other warmly. 


CHAPTER VIII 


A STRANGE CONFESSION 

The girl who had been wrongfully accused 
was not so light hearted. Mrs. Dane still 
preserved her suspicious aspect, and of course 
the whole school was eager for every bit of 
news. Lilian said nothing to her mother 
about the talk, she seemed rather fretful and 
uneasy, as if she was annoyed by the girl's 
presence. 

So on Thursday afternoon she went out for a 
walk. Just beyond the gate she saw Edith 
Trenham coming toward her. 

“Oh, were you going out? Let us walk to- 
gether, then. I have so much to say to you? 
Did you think it queer?" 

“I know now," said Lilian. “It was dread- 
ful!" 

“I had to go home for some important 
school papers, and just slipped in and out 
again when you saw me. Of course I did not 
want it spoken of. Mother has been very 
careful keeping the windows on that side of 
the house closed. Claire has never had any 
of the infantile diseases. The woman thought 
it measles at first, but they are so particular 
in the schools, now. We closed today. Moth- 
134 


A Strange Confession 135 

er is going to shut up the house for awhile and 
board at Mrs. Lane’s while they fumigate and 
burn up. The authorities have ordered the 
old house torn down. I think not a great 
many people visited her, though they did at 
first. I only hope the little girl will not die. 
Mother spoke to the oldest one that morning 
and she said her brothers were very ill and 
that her mother thought she would have a 
doctor, but it was too late when he came. 
Oh, I hope there will not be any more cases.” 

“It would be terrible if they died like that. 
Our classes are dismissed as well, I believe 
there was a great fright among the girls, and 
just at Christmas time, too.” 

“Will you go down with me tomorrow and 
have a look at the stores? This has upset our 
plans. I wanted you and your mother to 
come and take Christmas dinner with us.” 

“Mother doesn’t seem at all well. I doubt 
if she could go out, and I couldn’t leave her 
for pleasure.” 

“Well, some other time; and how are you 
getting along? I suppose you have vacation 
as well?” 

“Oh yes. Madame thinks I shall acquire 
French easily. She reads French verses so 
splendidly, and I am doing well in Latin, but 


136 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

oh, there are such stores of reading! It is a 
hardship to tear myself away, and poetry just 
enchants me — well, when it is high and fine. 
I have begun ‘The Idyls of the King.’ Oh it 
must be just glorious to write such poetry!” 

“It is a rare gift, and it is something to be 
able to read and appreciate.” 

“I sometimes envy the girls who have so 
much leisure, yet they seem not to improve it. 
But then — oh, you don’t know how lovely it is 
here, how much there is to interest and satis- 
fy. Of course I’m not quite satisfied at pres- 
ent,” and Lilian gave a light laugh, “but the 
town is so truly beautiful and the house — I 
wonder if it is silly but I walk about at times 
and do enjoy the soft rugs, the handsome fur- 
niture, the pictures, the beautiful bits of art 
scattered around, and oh, the books! There 
never was anything like it in my life before, 
and if I go back to comparative poverty, which 
I suppose I shall some day, for I never can 
earn any thing like this, it will linger in my 
mind as a journey to some enchanting place. 
There is so much to learn all the time. Not 
merely out of books but the sweet and gra- 
cious things one can do; Mrs. Barrington is so 
lovely. Am I tiring you with these visionary 
things?” 


A Strange Confession 137 

“No, my dear girl, I am glad you can enjoy 
them and treasure them up without a feeling 
of envy. We cannot all of us abound in this 
world’s goods, but we can be glad someone 
has them and is willing to share them with us, 
at least, allow us to look on.” 

“I’m going to study every day and get on as 
fast as possible. I’m longing for the time 
when I can earn money and have a little home 
of our own. I wish” — then she paused and 
recovering herself after a moment, resumed — 
“I wish to make some nice friends in my own 
walk in life, among those who really love to 
work and bring about results.” 

“And I am sure you will do it. And loving 
whatever is fine and true and gracious shapes 
one’s character. God has given us the sense 
of enjoyment and he means us to make the 
best use of it that we can. Oh, we must turn 
about. See how far we have walked, and there 
is a baby crescent moon.” 

The dun white of the sky was thinning into 
blue and here and there a star pricked through. 
It was clear and crisp yet the air had a fra- 
grance of the cedars and spruces. They hur- 
ried along, and Lilian promised to meet her 
friend tomorrow for another walk. She had 
never been an effusive girl, but she could talk 


138 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

so easily to Edith and in the interchange she 
could throw off the things that annoyed or 
depressed her. 

So they said good-night and she entered the 
pretty vestibule where she had first seen Mrs. 
Barrington. Her heart gave a quick bound as 
she thought of that lady’s confidence in her 
truth. Mrs. Dane must sometime be con- 
vinced of her injustice. 

She ran lightly up the stairs, wondering a 
little that her mother’s room should be in 
darkness. Crossing over to the match safe 
she stumbled over something on the floor and 
struck a light in half terror. 

“Oh mother! mother!” she cried to the pros- 
trate figure. Then in sudden fear she called in 
the hall — “Oh, will some one come! I cannot 
tell what has happened to mother.” 

Miss Arran answered. The face was deadly 
white and cold, the eyes half open, staring. 

“Oh, she is dead! I went out to walk and 
staid too long.” Lilian’s voice was full of re- 
morseful pathos. 

“No,” said Miss Arran. “I think she has 
only fainted. Her heart beats a little; Let 
us !ay her on the bed and I’ll get some restor- 
atives. Is she accustomed to fainting?” 

“Not like this. Oh poor mother!” 


A Strange Confession 139 

They laid her on the bed, chafed her hands 
and bathed her face, using the lavender salts. 
After a little there was a faint respiration. 
Then she opened her eyes and murmured 
something. 

“Mother, dear, what happened? And I was 
away.” “It will be better when — when I’m 
gone.” The vague glance seemed to study the 
girl with poignant anguish. “Oh, yes! — bet- 
ter — ” 

“You must not say that. You must live 
to let me repay you for all you have done for 
me, and we will be happy — ” 

She moved her head from side to side in 
dissent. “Oh, you do not know, but I did it 
for love’s sake. I could not live without my 
child.” 

“Suppose we get her undressed, she will feel 
more comfortable. She has not looked well 
for the last week or two. Mrs. Barrington was 
speaking about it, but she is such a quiet 
body.” 

Lilian opened the bed. She was girlishly 
glad her mother’s night dress was neat and 
lace trimmed, fit to go to her new home. So 
they soon had her easier and restful. 

“I should like a cup of tea,” she said, weakly. 

“I’ll get it,” and Miss Arran left the room. 


140 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“Dear mother,” and Lilian patted the hands 
that were thin and cold. 

“Oh, love me a little to the end, I’ve loved 
you so much. Whatever comes you will know 
I did it for love’s sake, and you must forgive.” 

“There can be nothing to forgive. You 
have worked for me early and late. You must 
live and let me repay you, make you happy. 
If I have failed in the past I will try with 
all my soul and strength in the future. 
Think, every year brings us nearer the home 
I shall make for you. Oh, do not talk of dy- 
ing!” 

“You don’t know. I did not think of the 
wrong then. You were a motherless babe, 
then, and I was a childless mother. For you 
must know, you must have felt in your inmost 
soul that I was not your true mother.” 

Lilian raised her head in the wildest dismay, 
and though she stared at Miss Arran she did 
not seem to see her. Many a time like a light- 
ning flash the thought had swept over her, but 
it seemed awful to have it put in words, to 
have the certainty pierce through her like a 
sharp sword. 

“Oh, mother, you do not know what you are 
saying. It is some wretched, horrid dream! 
You have been too much alone. You have 


A Strange Confession 1 4 1 

brooded over this thought of our differences. 
Children and parents are often unlike. At all 
events I have never known any other mother. 
You must live and let me prove a true daugh- 
ter.” 

“I did not think there could be any wrong 
then. If you were cast on the world friendless, 
why should I not fill my aching heart with 
baby love. Yes, you did love me then, you 
clung to me. I never thought of there being 
someone else — a father, perhaps — oh, heaven 
help us both!” 

She had raised herself soon after she began 
to talk ; now she fell back on the pillow fainting. 
Lilian was sobbing. Miss Arran came to her 
relief. 

“I think we must have a physician. I will 
see Mrs. Barrington. 

The faint was of short duration. Miss 
Arran was strangely mystified. Was Mrs. 
Boyd’s talk an hallucination or some secret 
kept for years that must needs make its way 
out at last? Had she any right to repeat it on 
mere suspicion? 

Mrs. Barrington sent for Dr. Kendricks at 
once. Then she went to Mrs. Boyd’s room. 
How very frail she looked. 

“My poor child,” the lady said, “this is very 


142 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

hard for you, and I think you did not come in 
to dinner. Suppose you go down stairs for 
awhile?” 

“Oh, no, I must stay here. Poor mother — ” 

“Lilian,” murmured the feeble voice and 
the thin hand wandered out as if for a clasp. 

She took it, pressed it to her lips, her firm, 
warm cheek. Should she pray for life? Would 
not God send what was best? Oh, that she 
might have strength to accept it. She raised 
her eyes to Mrs. Barrington in entreaty. Oh, 
who was she so like at that moment? 

The doctor was announced. Miss Arran 
sat by the bedside. There was a lamp on the 
table and he asked that it might be lighted, 
making a close survey of the patient. 

“Was there any shock? Her vitality is at a 
very low ebb. When was the first unconscious 
spell?” 

“I was out,” began Lilian, tremulously. “She 
insisted that I should go and seemed to want 
to be alone. I staid longer than I meant, and 
found her fallen to the floor — ” 

Mrs. Boyd raised to a partly sitting posture 
and looked up with feverish eagerness. 

“I went to put something in the chiffonier — 
you will find it, Lilian, in a box and the key is — 
oh, what did I do with it?” 

“Never mind, dear,” in a soft tone. 


A Strange Confession 143 

“But you must mind, and then I turned — it 
was my leg. It is heavy and I can’t raise it, 
but the ache is all gone.” 

Dr. Kendrick turned down the blanket and 
examined the limb, nodding as if convinced. 

“Oh,” she cried, “is it paralysis? Then it 
will not be long. My mother had two strokes 
a week apart, her mother never rallied from 
the first, I’m tired — worn out, and Lilian will 
be better off without me. She may find — I 
have written it all out — it’s there in the 
drawer — ” 

“Oh mother!” Lilian kissed her and put 
her back on the pillow where she gave a gasp- 
ing sigh. 

Dr. Kendrick beckoned Mrs. Barrington out 
of the room. 

“She is in a very low condition and I doubt 
if she survives more than a few days. What 
about the girl — is it her daughter?” 

“Why, yes — though they are very dissimilar; 
but she is a devoted daughter. The mother is 
caretaker, the daughter a student.” 

“She seems to have exhausted nature. The 
fainting spells may be a method of rest. Let 
her sleep all she can. Very little can be done 
for her. I will leave some drops to be given 
if she is very restless and will look in in the 


144 TheGirlsat Mt. Morris 

morning. It is rather unfortunate this should 
happen to you, just now.” 

“Oh, school has closed and there is plenty of 
help. I want everything done for her.” 

Then Mrs. Barrington returned to the room. 
Miss Arran sat by the foot of the bed, Lilian 
was bathing her mother’s face. 

“My child,” Mrs. Barrington said, “you had 
better lie down and get a little rest. We will 
watch — ” 

“No, I want Lilian,” entreated the mother. 
“You will not leave me? When I am a little 
rested I want to tell you how it came — ” 

“Yes, yes, but not now. I would rather stay 
here. It is my place, and now there are no 
other duties.” 

So the hours wore on. Mrs. Boyd seemed 
to fall into a tranquil sleep. Lilian laid down 
on her own bed, and slept in a disturbed sort 
of fashion. Then morning came, and the 
house was astir. 

“Oh, Miss Arran have you watched all 
night? How good you are!” 

“I had several naps. Your mother was 
very quiet. She seems better. Mrs. Dane is 
coming in and you must get some breakfast. 
Then if we need a nurse — ” 

“Oh, no, do not have one. My place is 


A Strange Confession 145 

here. Oh, Miss Arran,” and Lilian turned 
deadly pale, “you heard what she said last 
evening. It can't be true. Would any one 
ever work and make sacrifices for a child not 
her own? She is my mother.” 

Miss Arran nodded. “Unless she is much 
worse I do not think we will need a nurse. 
There will be so little to do in the house that I 
shall be quite at liberty.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Boyd was much stronger,” the 
doctor admitted, though the case was not 
much more hopeful. A second stroke might 
end it all. “But she seems to have something 
on her mind. Is it anxiety about her daugh- 
ter?” 

“I have assured her that Lilian will be my 
charge. She has the making of an unusually 
fine scholar, and she is a high minded, honor- 
able girl, sincere and ambitious.” 

“The daughter has taken from somewhere a 
much stronger physical and mental equipment. 
What of the father?” 

“Oh, he died when she was a mere infant.” 

The embargo had been removed from 
Lilian and Mrs. Dane treated her with a sort 
of tolerant sympathy. She roamed about the 
deserted library and chose some books, a few 
girls waylaid her in the school room. Miss 


146 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

Nevins made an importunate appeal, quite 
forgetting her past disdain. 

“Oh, why can’t you stay down here?” she 
cried. “It’s awful dull, and there’s no fun 
going on. Miss Graniss is going to take us 
down town when the stores are lighted up, but 
it’s so long to wait until evening.” 

“Mother is ill and I want to stay with her,” 
Lilian returned coldly, provoked at the sel- 
fishness. She read awhile, then took up some 
embroidery. Miss Trenham came in with the 
gift of a beautiful volume of poems. Claire 
sent a little reminder in a most exquisite book 
mark. She was quite delighted in the change 
to another home, where there were two girls. 
Could Edith do anything for them?” 

“They are all so good here, and mother 
doesn’t need much, she seems to sleep a good 
deal.” 

The sick girl at the Clairvoyant’s was im- 
proving. Not even a case of measles had been 
reported in town. 

So the winter day drew to a close. Lilian 
watched the little procession starting out un- 
der the convoy of Miss Graniss. Yes, she had 
run out that way at Laconia — how long ago it 
seemed. Oh, she ought to have sent a few 


A Strange Confession 147 

gifts to old girl friends. She had really no 
heart for gladness. 

Lilian sat over by the gas burner reading 
that most bautiful Christmas part of “InMe- 
moriam.” She almost heard the “happy bells 
ring across the snow, so rapt was she in the 
poets charm. Then something stirred. Her 
mother was trying to raise herself. 

“Oh mother— 3 ” 

“Put the pillows around me, so, I want to 
sit up. I want to talk. I have been living 
it over. And I am surely going to that other 
country. I shall have my own two babies in 
my arms, and their father will come to meet 
me. I want to tell you how it was. It has 
come back so distinctly, much plainer than 
when I wrote it.” 

Miss Arran had started to come in but 
paused at the door. Lilian’s back was to- 
wards her. Mrs. Dane going through the hall 
paused as Miss Arran held up her finger. 

“Oh, mother, not tonight.” 

“Yes, now. I feel so strong. After hus- 
band died my brother sent for me and wanted 
me and wanted me to take up some land ad- 
joining his. Mr. Holland, who was holding 
the life insurance — all I had, was not willing 
until I had seen what the place was like and 


148 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

he thought that kind of life very hard on 
women, but my brother was the only relative 
I had, though I had not seen him for years. 
After I had started I was frightened about the 
journey and the strange people. There was 
one woman with a baby, a bright, beautiful 
child with rosy cheeks and brilliant eyes. I 
supposed her the mother, for I saw her nurse 
the infant, and there was with them such a 
beautiful woman. She came to me in the 
night, and when I looked at her the last 
time she was dead,” and she sighed. 

“We were most of us asleep when there was 
an awful crash. Then horrible shrieks and 
cries and being thrown about — ” 

“Oh, mother, don’t, don’t!” Lilian implored. 
“Your mind is wandering — ” 

“No, it is true, horribly true. It was one of 
the awful accidents of that time, more than 
fifteen years ago, but I suppose I became un- 
conscious. My babe flew out of my arms ; my 
little baby,” in a lingering tone as if the 
words were sweet to say. 

“When I came to myself it was in a room 
where several were lying around on cots, and 
two women sat close together trying to hush 
the crying child.” 


A Strange Confession 149 

“Give me my baby, I almost shrieked. 
Bring me my baby.” 

“They brought it and I hugged it to my 
breast, gave it nourishment, cuddled it in my 
arms and I fell asleep full of joy. We both 
slept a long while. When I woke the woman 
brought me a cup of tea and some bread. I 
was ravenously hungry. Then I asked what 
had happened. It had been twenty-four hours. 

“It was a horrible accident at a place where 
tracks crossed. All day they had been clear- 
ing away the wreck and sending bodies into 
the nearest towns for this place was small. 
A number had been killed outright. Will you 
give me some of that tea in the tumbler?” 

“Oh, mother, do not tell any more,” the 
girl pleaded, shuddering. 

“Yes, I must, I must! When morning 
came the woman helped me up and I had some 
breakfast. I had been stunned and bruised, 
but no bones were broken.” 

“We are so glad the baby was yours, one of 
the women said. “The other poor baby and 
its mother was killed.” 

“I went to the bed presently and turned 
down the blanket. There lay the lovely child 
warm and rosy, the picture of health. I de- 
voured it with kisses. Yes, it was mine. 


150 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

God had saved it and sent it to me. It had 
no mother, so it was mine. I called it by my 
baby’s name, and I couldn’t have cared more 
for my own flesh and blood. You were so 
beautiful and bright — so fond and loving. 
On the other side of the room lay the lovely 
woman who had interested me so much. 
They thought her dying, she looked as if she 
were dead, I never saw anything more per- 
fect. She was like sculptured marble. They 
were trying to get every one away and the next 
day an official questioned me and offered to 
make good any loss. I had my ticket pinned 
to the lining of my dress, and what money I 
had taken with me sewed up in a little bag. 
There had been a fire as well, and much of the 
baggage was burned. I had lost my trunk but 
they paid me its full value and more, and sent 
me on my journey. 

“I have told you what a dismal place my 
brother had in Wisconsin. There were five 
big, rough children. I was not fitted for farm 
work. I missed my old friends and so I went 
back to Laconia, but my whole life was 
wrapped up in you.” 

“And many a time I must have seemed 
ungrateful. Oh, mother, when you did so 
much for me!” sobbed Lilian. 


A Strange Confession 1 5 1 

“Oh, dear, I have thought it all out. You 
were not of my kind. It fretted me at first. 
You were always a little lady, doing things in 
a nicer way than most girls, and you were for- 
ever reading and studying. If we could have 
kept the boarding house,” in tones of regret, 
“but there was my long illness and the house 
was sold torn down for a great factory. Then 
I took up the sewing. It was easier in some 
ways. I liked Sally Marks and her mother 
so much. The gay jolliness and the merry 
chat. They were like two girls together. 
But your heart was set on the High School. 
Oh, Lilian, do believe I would have kept you 
there if I could. Then I began to wonder 
what your own mother and father had been 
like, and if your father was alive. Perhaps he 
could have done much better for you. The 
thought wore on me, and I was not well; I 
knew that. You see I should have had a girl 
who did not mind working in a shop and en- 
joying good times with other girls, going to 
parties and picnics and having lovers and 
marrying as I did, and having babies. I loved 
babies so. To be a grandmother to a little 
flock seemed very heaven to me.” 

“Oh, mother, don't! You will break my 
heart,” sobbed Lilian. 


152 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“No, child, you were not to blame. God 
gave you all these high thoughts and ambi- 
tions; I never had any of them, and after we 
eame here I understood it still better. You 
belonged to these kind of people, your ways 
were theirs, your ambition was right, and I 
was very thankful that such a refuge opened 
for us. You have been a good, devoted child. 
Tomorrow we will talk it over again. Now 
will you send for some toast and eat. Oh, 
Lilian, child, don’t cry. God will bring you 
out right and forgive me for what I did out of 
longing love.” 

Lilian turned, Miss Arran took a step for- 
ward. “I will bring it to you,” she said, and 
she motioned to Mrs. Dane who stood like a 
statue. 

“Let us go to Mrs. Barrington. She must 
know this,” she whispered. 

Lilian bathed her face and readjusted her 
mother’s pillows. The whole world seemed in 
a daze about her. Yet she was not so much 
surprised either, but stunned, incapable now 
of judging whether there had been any right 
or wrong. If no one belonging to her had been 
found — and her own mother was among the 
killed, she might have been turned over to 
some foundling asylum. 


A Strange Confession 153 

“I feel much better,” exclaimed Mrs. Boyd. 
But, oh, Lilian, don’t pray for me to live, for 
I should be a helpless burden on you, and HI 
have my two own babies in heaven. I meant 
to do it for the best when I claimed you, and I 
think God will understand. It’s been a poor, 
broken sort of life but I’ve tried to do up to 
the lights I had, and yours will be better, 
higher. Mrs. Barrington appreciated you and 
will help you. God surely opened this way 
for us.” 

Was it truly of God’s providence? She had 
longed so ardently for the refinements of life, 
the possibilities of education. Some times it 
seemed as if He answered petitions in the 
suppliant’s way and freighted them with 
another burden. 

But if this should be laid upon her she would 
pray for strength to do her whole duty. It 
was hardly likely she would ever find any one 
belonging to her, that was too wild a thought. 
She would keep this generous foster mother as 
long as she needed love and care. 


CHAPTER IX 


WHOSE CHILD AM I? 

Miss Arran tapped lightly at the half-open 
door and Mrs. Barrington bade both ladies 
enter. 

“How is Mrs. Boyd?” 

“Why she seems curiously better. She has 
been talking awhile to her daughter and her 
voice has a latent strength that surprises one, 
and we have been unwitting listeners to a most 
remarkable story. Did you ever suspect that 
she might not be the own mother of Miss 
Boyd?” 

“The thought has crossed my mind. They 
are so dissimilar.” 

“I have never really liked Mrs. Boyd or the 
girl either,” began Mrs. Dane. “There seemed 
something to conceal, some secret between 
them. I had a fancy Lilian was on the watch 
all the time lest her mother should betray it.” 

“Oh, did you think that? It appeared to 
me the anxiety of a girl of good breeding lest 
her mother should fall into habits of a dif- 
ferent kind that were rather annoying. Yet 
they had always been together — ” 

“It seemed to me aping a style really above 
what she had been used, a certain pretentious- 
154 


Whose Child Am I? 


155 


ness, that did not appear suitable to her 
position, but she has proved a devoted nurse 
and daughter, and I will confess my prejudice 
has received a great shock, and I admit frankly 
that I may have been mistaken when I accused 
her of being at the Clairvoyant’s. Miss Arran 
will you tell the story — it seems a deathbed 
confession.” 

Miss Arran began. She had started to go 
in Mrs. Boyd’s room to see if anything was 
needed when the words arrested her, and she 
detailed the journey Mrs. Boyd had under- 
taken with her infant child, the dreadful mid- 
night disaster, the unconsciousness of the 
poor woman until the next day, her hearing 
the child cry and claiming it unwittingly, and 
then learning the child s mother had been 
killed as well as her own baby and her resolve 
to keep it ; her taking it on her farther journey, 
and caring for it as her own, her latent re- 
morse lest she should have defrauded the girl 
out of a better birthright — ” 

Mrs. Barrington rose suddenly and paced 
the room in strange agitation. 

“ Somewhere I have heard a story that 
might be the other side of this. It is very 
strange,” clasping her hands. “One would 
not want to make a mistake.” 


156 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“I wish you might hear the story, and one 
point of importance is whether it would be 
wisdom to help the girl in any search for her 
parentage. Sometimes unfortunate facts come 
to light. You, perhaps, can tell what will be 
the best course to pursue.” 

“Yes, I am glad you came to me. I had 
resolved to keep Miss Boyd here after her 
mother was gone. I must give the matter 
some thought. We will not be hasty. Yes, 
I should like to hear the confession and ask her 
some questions. Lilian must not stay alone 
tonight.” 

“I will gladly offer my services if they would 
be acceptable,” said Mrs. Dane. 

“I think I will take the first part of the 
night, and then you may be watcher. I 
thank you very much for your kindness.” 

Mrs. Barrington went to the quiet apart- 
ment. Lilian had fallen asleep with her head 
on her mother’s pillow. She had exhausted 
herself with a soft, pitiful crying. With the 
quick unreason of youth she upbraided herself 
for the many times she had been secretly 
mortified at her mother’s lack of the qualities 
she liked best. She had spent hours in dream- 
ing of a phantom mother sweet, graceful and 
refined, who loved all delightful things, who 


Whose Child Am I? 157 

was stirred by music and poetry, who could 
receive guests with a gracious hospitality in 
the pretty home which should be simple as 
befitted moderate means. The sympathy be- 
tween them would be perfect. They would 
linger over well-loved poets, they would dis- 
cuss their brave heroes and favorite heroines. 
How many times she had fallen asleep with 
this dear mother’s hand clasped in hers! 

But here had been the hard working mother 
instead. Yes, she had tried to help. Nearly 
all the summer vacation she had sewed stead- 
ily, but she had never given the real love. It 
was as if neither truly understood the other’s 
language. 

“All the rest of her life I will try,” was her 
last conscious thought. 

Mrs. Barrington found them both asleep. 
She studied the girl’s face, the finely cut 
features, the wide eyelids with their bronze 
fringe, the beautifully curved lips. It was 
an aristocratic face. She hardly dared think 
there was a resemblance, and yet it explained 
what had puzzled her at times. “Lilian,” she 
said softly. “Lilian, child, it is time you were 
in bed.” 

The girl roused suddenly with a startled 


158 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

look. Then she caught the hand and pressed 
a fervent kiss upon it. 

“You are all so kind,” she murmured. “I 
can never repay you sufficiently.” 

“Do not think of that, I am going to sit here 
awhile with your mother and you must try and 
get some sleep.” 

“Mother is better I think,” hesitatingly. 
“She is stronger, and now she is sleeping peace- 
fully.” 

She slept on with only a rather heavy 
breathing. At one Mrs. Dane came to relieve 
her. Lilian was on the alert quite early and 
her mother asked for some breakfast. 

At ten the doctor came. “I feel so much 
stronger,” the invalid said, “but I can’t move 
my limbs. There doesn’t seem any life in 
them.” 

“It was quite a severe stroke.” 

“And if I should have another?” 

“We won’t think of that just now. You 
must eat what you can of nourishing food.” 

Mrs. Boyd glanced up at the doctor with 
beseeching eyes — 

“It is best that I shouldn’t live — ” 

“For your daughter’s sake.” Dr. Ken- 
dricks felt almost ashamed of the platitud- 


Whose Child Am I ? 159 

A helpless burden on a young girl, a poor, weak 
woman. 

“It is for her sake. She has found a good 
friend in Mrs. Barrington, and I can do no 
more. I did what I thought best then, but I 
did it for the sake of my aching, lonely heart. 
But for the child I believe I must have died 
then. Doesn’t God forgive when you do what 
seems best?” 

There was anguish in every line of the 
wasted face. 

“God knows the motive of every deed, and 
if it is done in single mindedness, in love and 
charity he will accept.” 

“It was done in love. You see, her mother 
was dead. There was no one to claim her. 
Oh, what am I saying! Go away, you can do 
nothing for me, and she turned her face over 
to the wall. 

He stood some seconds by her. She was 
crying softly, and again motioned him away 
with her hand. 

He went out of the room and looked around. 
Yes, there was Mrs. Barrington. 

“What is the matter between that mother 
and daughter?” he inquired brusquely. “She 
seems — well is the girl her own child? Has 
she done — something — ” 


160 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


“Oh, doctor can you spare a little time? I 
am troubled and puzzled. She made a strange 
confession last night and it seemed almost as 
if I knew the connecting link. Let me call 
Mrs. Dane and Miss Arran.” 

They came and at Mrs. Barrington’s in- 
vitation were seated. The doctor studied 
thejn a moment with drawn brows. 

“Doctor, I want you to relate your expe- 
rience of more than fifteen years ago when you 
went out to the scene of that frightful accident 
from which Mrs. Crawford has suffered so 
long and when her twin daughter was lost.” 

“What has that to do with it?” 

“'You will see. I believe Major Crawford 
left his wife and daughter in your charge when 
he was ordered to the west with his regiment.” 

“Yes.” He seemed to study a few moments. 
“Then came the word of the skirmish with the 
Indians when he was wounded in the leg which 
proved so much worse than he first thought 
and she decided to go out to him and take one 
of the babies. He had gone fairly wild over 
the birth of the little girls; they had so longed 
for a daughter. Marguerite, if you remember, 
was a strong, robust baby, laughing if you so 
much as smiled at her. A beautiful baby, I 
thought, looking much like her mother. Zai- 


Whose Child Am I? 1 6 1 


dee was smaller and more delicate, though 
never ill that I can recall. She decided to 
take Marguerite and the wet nurse who was 
very proud of her charge and fond of Mrs. 
Crawford. When we heard of the frightful 
disaster you may remember that I went out 
at once. It was a most dreary place, just a 
sort of freight station where the tracks crossed 
the through road. It could not be called a 
town, though now it is a thriving city and the 
freighting road runs miles below. When I 
reached the place most of the wreckage had 
been cleared away, the dead buried, the 
wounded sent to friends or hospitals at a dis- 
tance. I found about half a dozen remaining, 
four of them almost well enough to resume 
their journey. Two were thought hopeless, 
one of them being Mrs. Crawford. Fifteen 
years ago there were not so many conveniences 
as there are now, and as the fire broke out af- 
terward the baggage was mostly lost and it 
was quite difficult to find the names of the 
passengers at first. The nurse and the baby 
had been killed outright. There was one 
other baby on the train and that had been 
taken farther West with its mother.” 

Miss Arran and the housekeeper exchanged 
glances. 


1 62 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


“Mrs. Crawford had sustained some injury 
to the brain and for the first few days they had 
thought her dead half a dozen times. The 
people where she had been taken were very 
kind. She was in a comatose state most of 
the time, and when she roused seemed quite 
ignorant of what had happened. There was 
some injury to the back that rendered her 
limbs useless. As soon as I could make ar- 
rangements I had her removed to Indianapolis 
to a fine hospital where we found, on an ex- 
haustive examination, the spine had been 
injured, the ligatures strained and muscles 
actually torn apart. When the Major was 
well enough to travel — and he came very near 
losing his leg, it seemed, he joined us, and we 
journeyed on to New York. Meanwhile the 
Major’s brother had died, a queer, penurious 
old fellow who had never given up his rights in 
the estate and now it all came to the Major, 
besides a large amount of money. He re- 
signed from the army and they came home. 
Mrs. Crawford had kept her mind through all 
this and had been most brave, recovering very 
slowly as you know and when she could man- 
age to get about on crutches it appeared as if 
the last stage of recovery had been attained; 
but now it seems nothing short of a miracle. 


Whose Child Am I ? 163 

And there was the beautiful little golden 
haired fairy to gladden their hearts — ” 

“But the nurse and the child?” interrupted 
Miss Arran. 

“The child was crushed beyond recognition. 
They placed it in the coffin with the nurse and 
buried it temporarily. The Major meant to 
have it brought home, but it was so long be- 
fore they could get about it, and it seemed like 
living the heart-breaking episode over, so he 
concluded to have it permanently interred in 
a burying ground a few miles distant, which 
is now a really beautiful spot. Mrs. Crawford 
was ill so long that it seems like a dream to 
her.” 

“And did no one ever hear of the other 
child?” 

“What was there to hear? The mother 
claimed it.” 

“The woman dying in yonder room claimed 
the child first, ignorantly, then believing the 
mother dead, took it in the place of her poor 
murdered child.” 

“No!” The doctor sprang up and began 
to pace the floor. “Why, then, that young 
girl-” 

“Miss Arran will you tell the other side of 


164 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

the story. Why it seems to me there can be 
no mistake,” said Mrs. Barrington. 

“Well — this is most marvelous. Does the 
girl know — ” 

“Oh, she protests. I think she has no idea. 
But the mother fancies we may find some 
relative, a father perhaps, for she truly be- 
lieves the mother dead.” 

“But this confession — would she repeat it 
again?” 

“I think she spoke of having it written out 
somewhere.” 

“It must be well authenticated, you know. 
And — what steps have you considered?” 

“None. Tomorrow will be Sunday — they 
will all go to church to give thanks; then on 
Christmas day they are to have a small family 
dinner. You and Mrs. Kendricks and myself, 
two or three dear old friends, and it would be 
hardly wise to mar the sacredness of the occa- 
sion. We may see our way more clearly, I 
would not like to have Miss Boyd disturbed 
on uncertainties.” 

“I will take a further look at her,” said the 
doctor. “I have known cases like hers to last 
weeks, even when strength seemed to be almost 
gone.” 

He wanted also to see Miss Boyd again. 


Whose Child Am I? 165 

He had not noticed her critically. Mrs. Bar- 
rington had spoken of the likeness that had 
puzzled her in the beginning, the elusive re- 
semblance to Mrs. Crawford in her girlhood, 
as for two years she had been at school. He 
paused at the door. She was standing by 
the window her profile distinctly outlined. It 
was classic, from the broad, shapely forehead, 
the down-dropped eyelids with their dark 
fringe, the straight nose with the fine, flexible 
nostrils, the rounded chin, the lips that seemed 
to shut in sadness and longing, but it was the 
poise of the head, the arching neck, the shoul- 
ders proud enough for a statue. It needed more 
real youthfulness for sixteen, but one could 
trace resemblances. 

Did she feel the scrutiny? She turned. 
The front view was more girlish. 

“Oh,” she exclaimed, “mother is sleeping. 
Is it a bad sign for her to sleep so much?” 

“It gives her rest and saves the wear on 
her nerves. You are a watchful nurse. Where 
did you learn so much?” 

“I think it comes to you when one has done 
so much for you,” she answered quietly. 

“Did you always live in that western coun- 
try town?” he asked, just to make talk. 

Lilian colored and hesitated. “When I was 


1 66 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


a baby mother went out to Wisconsin to her 
brother’s, I don’t remember anything of that. 
Yes, afterward we lived in Laconia until we 
came here; but, do you think she can — 
mend?” and she approached the bed. 

Dr. Kendricks made a slow movement in the 
negative. “She has very little strength. Was 
she ill before she came here?” 

“Long ago she had a fever, but I think now 
she has been weakly for a year or more. I was 
so anxious to keep in school. Oh, I ought to 
have helped more,” and the tears stood in her 
eyes. “For we were poor.” 

She uttered the fact with a kind of prideful 
dignity. “She did everything for me and I 
had planned when I began to earn money that 
we would have a home — ” 

“Yes, you have been a good daughter,” and 
all this while she might have been living in a 
delightful manner in her father’s house, loving 
and beloved, the comfort of her mother! For 
she would have been a devoted daughter in 
that beautiful home. He hardened his heart 
against the dying woman, and walked quietly 
out of the room. 

“The story must be true,” he admitted to 
Mrs. Barrington. “But I cannot tell what 
step to take first. Would you mind if I saw 


Whose Child Am I? 167 

Mr. Ledwith? He has been the Crawford 
lawyer and was the brother’s executor. I am 
quite mystified and perhaps not capable of 
judging.” 

“Why, I think that would be an excellent 
plan. Yes. He can tell better what steps 
to take. But Lilian will not leave the poor 
woman. I am not sure she believes the story. 
She does not count on any change but is glad 
to stay here with me and fit herself for earning 
a living. She has a very loyal nature.” 

Mrs. Boyd roused and ate her dinner, then 
Lilian read her to sleep again. She begged 
not to be sent out to walk and Mrs. Barrington 
yielded. 

At five Mr. Ledwith called, full of interest 
in the strange story and begged to see Mrs. 
Boyd, wondering if she would repeat it. 
Lilian was summoned. 

“Oh, it would seem cruel to disturb her,” 
she cried with passionate tenderness, “and she 
suffered so in telling it the other evening. It 
cannot make much difference to me, since my 
own mother was killed, and my father may 
have been dead before that. I shall always 
hold her in my memory as my mother.” 


1 68 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


“But the woman who was killed may not 
have been your mother.” 

Lilian started in surprise. 

“There seems to be a reason why we should 
be certain in this. Trust me, I will not tor- 
ment her needlessly.” 

“My dear child it is best;” said Mrs. Bar- 
rington. “Can you not trust me?” 

Lilian was not convinced but she led the 
way. 

“Oh, where have you been so long?” cried 
the invalid. “You said you would stay — has 
some one come to take you away? Oh, you 
will not go. You promised. It will be only a 
little while.” 

She fell into a pitiable terror. Lilian 
soothed. Mr. Led with tried to explain that 
they might possibly find the young girl’s 
father who was now a prosperous man. 

But Mrs. Boyd would not be persuaded. 
She began to talk incoherently, and suddenly 
raising her head and leaning on one elbow said 
— “send them away. It is all true as I told 
you. You are not my own child, but I have 
loved you all these years, oh, you will stay 
with me! I can feel that it will not be for 
long. It is there in the drawer — I wrote it 
out. It took so long and I was so tired, so 


Whose Child Am I? 169 

tired! Give it to them and send them away. 
Oh, Lilian, he is not your father. Promise me 
you will not go with him.” 

Lilian opened the drawer. There lay quite 
a big packet, with the superscription, — “For 
my daughter Lilian when I am dead.” 

She simply handed it to Mr. Ledwith. He 
and Mrs. Barrington left the room. Mrs. 
Boyd gave way to a wild fit of weeping and 
Lilian had much ado to comfort her, but 
presently she soothed her to slumber. 

“Who heard this story or confession?” he 
asked as they entered the library. 

“Mrs. Dane and Miss Arran.” 

“Will they come and listen? They can 
tell whether the two will agree and point out 
any discrepancy.” 

It was written in a shaky hand and evidently 
at intervals, many words misspelled and 
phrases repeated, but with a passionate sin- 
cerity and an overwhelming love for the child 
whose mother she thought dead, and she fan- 
cied the baby might be thrown on the charity 
of the world, but she knew even then it was 
not her baby but the longing for the child was 
pitiful. Mrs. Barrington was reading it and 
now and then her voice faltered. 

“Oh,” said Miss Arran, “they are alike ex- 


170 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

cept that this seems more pathetic. There is 
no doubt of the truth in my mind. Of course 
she saw the difference as Miss Lilian grew older 
and she was afraid she might have defrauded 
her of some better fortune. Oh, I pity the 
poor woman profoundly. She had a hard 
life. Mrs. Barrington, this must have seemed 
a haven of rest to her. Providence must have 
guided you.” 

“It is certainly remarkable,” subjoined Mr. 
Ledwith. “I will see Dr. Kendricks this 
evening, but I think we had better wait until 
after Christmas so as not to mar the happy 
reunion of that day. Then we must see how 
the Major will take it. It is one of the things 
he almost never refers to, and he was afraid 
of intensifying the loss by having the body 
brought here for burial. Truly there are 
many strange happenings in this world. I am 
requested to look up another child that was 
given out for adoption, and now has a fortune 
coming to it after twenty years.” 


CHAPTER X 


UNRAVELING TANGLED THREADS 

Sunday morning was glorious. There had 
been a light fall of snow and every tree and 
shrub was in feathery whiteness, while the 
sky was as blue as June. The sun came up 
through the long levels of yellow light more 
golden than ever until every branch and twig 
shimmered in iridescent hues. 

Lilian bathed and dressed herself, now and 
then leaning over her mother who seemed to 
breathe regularly, but the face was thin and 
pallid, and the soft hair seemed to have whit- 
ened in these few days. She bent over and 
kissed the cool forehead. 

Miss Arran looked in. 

“Oh, is it all right? I left you at two; there 
really was no need of watches as I was just 
across the hall, but I think you confine your- 
self too closely. Now you must go down and 
take a walk on the porch. The morning air 
has a positive balminess in it. It really should 
be Christmas morning with the angels singing 
for very joy.” 

Lilian looked undecided. Yet the very 
thought of sunshine and fresh air was reviving. 

171 


\J2 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“I will call you the moment she wakes,” 
said Miss Arran, and the girl went. 

Oh, how delightful it was! She drew in 
long breaths and gave a great, fervent thanks- 
giving. Yes, it was good to live, to be able 
to work, to have a purpose in life and see the 
way to attain it. 

She went in presently. Her mother had 
just wakened. She bathed her face and hands 
with fragrant water, brushed her hair and put 
on a pretty dressing sacque of her own. Then 
she had some breakfast which she appeared 
to enjoy. 

“I feel so drowsy,” she said. “I am so 
comfortable and at ease.” 

That was much to be thankful for. 

“Lilian will you do me a favor this morn- 
ing,” began Mrs. Barrington in her most per- 
suasive voice. “I want you to go to church 
with me. The Crawford family will be there 
to give thanks. And we have learned that 
your mother was in the same fearful accident 
and her escape was a marvel. All these years 
Mrs. Crawford has been an invalid but she has 
borne her suffering with exemplary patience. 
Dr. Kendricks went out at once but there was 
scarcely any hope of her living then. Your 
mother spoke of a beautiful woman they 


Unraveling Tangled Threads 1 73 

thought dying or dead — do you remember ?” 

“Oh, yes. A woman with such lovely golden 
hair. Miss Zaidee's is exquisite, too. Yes, I 
will go. I should like to see her. How strange 
it all is! And my own mother, it seems, was 
among the killed.” 

“It was terrible. Of course your mother 
going away so soon did not hear all of it. 
Yes, I want you to go with me.” 

Dr. Kendricks made his visit and saw there 
was little change. Several of the girls were 
going and they started early. Mrs. Barring- 
ton kept two pews on one side of the church, 
which was all in Christmas attire with wreaths 
of holly here and there, and clusters of golden 
flowers dried in their natural colors. The 
altar was fragrant with real blossoms and to 
Lilian there came a deeper emotion than rev- 
erence; something she had never experienced 
before. She who had no joy of her very own 
must rejoice in that of others and search out 
the blessings of the spirit, find a way into the 
other kingdom, where the things one hungers 
and longs for are laid up against the time one 
is fitted for the pure and high enjoyment of 
them. The strength of the steadfast waiting, 
the lives that touched with near or remote 
sympathy and held God's promise for today, 


174 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

for all time. There was something kept for 
those who wearied not, that was bestowed 
when the soul had come to understand the 
true source of beneficent living. 

She had been listening to the beautiful music 
and now there was a sudden hush while 
several of the congregation entered. There 
were Major and Mrs. Crawford, and certainly 
curious eyes might be pardoned as she walked 
up the aisle with a graceful step. Oh, yes, she 
was a lovely woman, as in sweet humility and 
reverence she bowed her head. 

Then followed Zay and the fine looking 
midshipman who showed his pride in every 
line. What it must be to have a brother like 
that! Yet there was no envy in Lilian’s soul, 
since all these joys and privileges were far 
beyond her. But she had a quick, responsive 
nature when anything really touched her, and 
she joyed sincerely in this others joy. 

The service was gracious and comforting 
even to her. Hundreds of years ago ignorant 
shepherds sat watching their flocks all the 
long starlight night, and then the song of the 
angels, the great promise, the new era, the 
blessedness for the whole world that each 
might take his share. 

And the reverent prayer of this, Thy ser- 


Unraveling Tangled Threads 175 

vant, delivered from her bodily illness who de- 
sired to return thanks in the presence of all Thy 
people touched her heart to tears, and she 
joined in it fervently. 

The class did not stay for the whole ser- 
vice. Lilian hurried home, glad to escape 
the chatter of the curious. Her mother had 
just roused. 

“It was such a sweet, comforting service. 
I wish you could have heard it, and — ” would 
she understand about Mrs. Crawford — her 
“beautiful woman?” 

“Fm afraid when you leave me. Don’t go 
away again,” and the thin lips quivered. 

“But you have slept all the time, and you 
do feel better.” 

“If I could move about — ” fretfully. 

“Can I help?” 

“Oh, no. I want to do it myself, but my 
limbs won’t stir. Is it spring, that the sun 
shines so?” 

“No, dear. Tomorrow will be Christmas.” 

“Do you remember Sally? She had a 
party you know and you wouldn’t go — ” 

“But I was only a little girl, a school girl, 
and they were young ladies.” 

“Lilian do you mean never to have a lover? 
It is the happiest time for a girl. He takes you 


176 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

out and buys you pretty little things. He 
gave me that work box on Christmas, and a 
ring afterward. I don’t see how God could 
have let him get killed — we were so happy. 
He wasn’t your father. Both his babies died. 
Do you suppose he found them in heaven?” 

Mrs. Boyd began to cry. Her mind wan- 
dered considerably now. Lilian tried to read 
to her but she broke in with irrelevant snatches 
that had been pleasures to her long ago until 
she dropped off to sleep again. 

There was a rather joyous time in the morn- 
ing. Mrs. Barrington remembered her house- 
hold and the girls who had been compelled 
to stay. 

Lilian gave thanks for two beautiful vol- 
umes of poetry. Miss Arran remembered her 
with a box of very nice stationery, Mrs. Dane 
with some handkerchiefs, Mrs. Barrington 
went to the dinner at Crawford House, but 
the girls complained of the dullness. Lilian 
was so used to being sufficient for herself, so 
fond of reading that the day passed even if it 
had no Christmas joys. 

It was very happy at Crawford House. 
Vincent had arrived in the morning and added 
to their joy. Zay was bright and animated 


Unraveling Tangled Threads 177 

and the three planned many delights for the 
future. 

“There ought to be some young people/’ 
said the mother, “but we couldn’t have both 
and yours will come later on. I wanted these 
dear old friends who have been such a com- 
fort in my hard and trying years and then I 
shall begin over with you and be young again.’’ 

“And I was proud enough when I found I 
was put on the list for a three years’ cruise, ” 
declared Willard, “and now the thought quite 
unmans me. But we may stop at some place 
where you can all take a flying trip. ” 

“It can’t be next summer,” said Vincent. 
I have engaged them for my grand occasion. 
Next June I shall be a full fledged soldier and 
there will be the ball in which Zay will shine 
a star of the first magnitude.” 

“And set the day after,” laughed the girl. 
“Oh, Phil Rosewald wants to come and half 
a dozen others, but I suppose you can’t in- 
vite so many sisters and cousins. ” 

Vincent drew his face in an amusing half 
frown. “Is Phil as funny as ever? Doesn’t 
she sometimes jump over the traces? And 
how about the lovers? I think she had them 
ever since she stepped out of the cradle. ” 


178 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“In the multitude there is safety, ” said 
their father. 

Mrs. Barrington could not keep her thoughts 
from the lonely girl watching beside the dying 
woman. Oh, how would she get to her true 
place in the bright happy group. For years 
she had been as dead to them. Would Zay, 
who had garnered all the love and tenderness 
in her own girlish heart, be willing to share it? 

Dr. Kendricks drew her a little aside, “I 
can’t stand it!” he exclaimed, “I couldn’t 
break in upon this blessed day, but the thought 
of Miss Boyd has haunted me every moment. 
I must tell the Major tomorrow morning. 
Oh, how do you suppose he will take it? Mrs. 
Boyd is no longer reliable, her mind fails 
hourly. But out of the mouth of two or three 
witnesses everything shall be established. 
Hasn’t Miss Boyd any curiosity?” 

“Very little. She thinks her mother is 
dead and has built no hopes about a father 
and she relies upon my word. She has looked 
forward to caring for herself so long that I 
hardly see how she will give it up. At first 
she will not be glad. If the Major should 
doubt the story — ” 

“The likeness grows upon one. I saw it 
so plainly this morning. She is more like her 


U nraveling Tangled Threads 1 79 

mother than Zay and will make a fine looking 
woman. And I have seen it in Mrs. Crawford 
a dozen times today. I no longer doubt and 
I feel like an arch conspirator. ” 

Mrs. Crawford was enjoying herself keenly, 
though the nurse insisted she must take to the 
sofa and let others do the talking. The chil- 
dren gathered about her, full of eager love. 
Was there in the whole wide world a happier 
mother? And yet — far away another darling 
lay in a lonesome grave. She had ceased to 
speak of it and her husband thought she had 
outlived the sorrow. In a certain way she 
had. 

Then the guests prepared to depart. At 
nine Vincent was to take his train. 

“But you and father can run up now and 
then. They will be glad to see him. They 
are always proud of their old graduates, espec- 
ially those who have distinguished themselves. 
But, I'm glad you didn't have to make a pres- 
ent of your leg to the country. ” 

“It did come pretty near it. Ah, we have 
a great many mercies to be thankful for. It 
seems as if there was nothing more to ask ex- 
cept that you boys should keep in the right 
way." 

“As we shall try to," Willard returned and 


180 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


Vincent’s eyes gave a similar promise as he 
kissed his mother good-by. 

“Put on your wraps and come along with 
us Zay,” said Willard. “You must need an 
airing by this time.” 

Zay was nothing loth. They talked of next 
summer, the elder brother regretting that he 
would be in Japan in all probability. Then 
they said a tender good-by, and on the home- 
ward way Willard proposed a call on the 
Norton’s where there were two charming girls 
and a few other guests who were having a 
little dance. 

“Oh, yes, ” assented the young midshipman. 
“For you see, girls will be quite out of my line 
the next three years. I shall sigh for their 
charms and return a critical and opinionated 
bachelor, judging all girls by the novels I have 
read in my solitude. ” 

“I think I’ll make you out a list,” said 
Eva Norton, laughingly. 

“Do, and send it in a letter with your ap- 
proval and disapproval of the characters so 
I shall know what to copy and what to avoid. 

“And now you must have one dance.” 

Zay thought it rather late, but her brother 
overruled and they had a merry time, but it 
was midnight before they returned. 


Unraveling Tangled Threads 1 8 1 

Major Crawford and his wife often had their 
breakfast in the dainty sitting room up stairs. 
Zay just glanced in to bid them good-morning 
as Willard was impatiently calling her down.. 
She had not slept very well and had a head- 
ache, and she would not go out for a walk with 
him. She heard her father reading the paper 
aloud, so she went to her room and dropped 
on the bed again. Her throat began to feel 
sore and swollen. When she heard the doc- 
tor’s voice in the hall she leaned over the 
banister and said: “Dr. Kendricks will you 
come up here a minute or two?” 

“Yes, yes, what now? Did you feast too 
high yesterday?” 

“I don’t know. I feel sick all over. First 
I’m all of a shiver and then so hot and my 
head aches. ” 

“Well, we must inquire into it. Yes, you 
are flushed and getting excited. I think it is 
a feverish cold and some indigestion. We’ll 
soon fix that all right. Luckily I brought 
my medecine chest along,” and he laughed. 

“Doctor, you don’t think — are there any 
more cases of scarlet fever?” and her voice 
was tremulous. 

“Scarlet fever! Don’t get any such non- 
sense in your curly pate. No, there’s not 


1 82 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


another case and the little girl is recovering 
rapidly. Why you’ve not been even exposed 
to it and yours is just a cold. Now, alternate 
with these and I’ll be in again this afternoon. 
But, I’d stay in bed and rest. ” 

She slipped into a soft white wrapper, and 
Katy came in to straighten up her room. 

“You were out late last night, Miss Zay and 
you’ve caught a cold. ” 

“But, I so rarely have a cold.” 

“It sounds in your voice. Keep wrapped 
up good and warm. There’s nothing like 
heat to drive out those pernickety colds and 
I wish you’d drink some hot water. ” 

‘ Til see by and by. ” 

She turned her hot throbbing temple over 
on the pillow. If only she could shut out 
the sight and the smell of the clairvoyant’s 
room, and that boy grasping for breath. 
It must have been something awful for them 
both to die almost together and be shut up at 
once in their coffins ; and then a horror seized 
her. She had always been so well and joyous. 
Oh, what if she should die? It would kill 
her mother. Girls were more to their mothers ; 
business called so many of the boys away. 

She began to cry. The doctor and her 
father went down stairs. She thought her 


Unraveling Tangled Threads 183 

mother would come in and tried to calm the 
sort of hysterical mood. What were they 
talking about so long? Was she worse than 
the doctor had admitted? She heard her 
father’s voice rise as if in a passion which 
his visitor seemed trying to subdue. Oh, 
what had happened? 

Her mother entered the room very pale and 
with frightened eyes. 

“Oh, Zay,” she cried, dropping on the side 
of the bed, “have you any idea what your 
father and Doctor Kendricks are quarreling 
about? Your father is not easily excited — 
he used to be very quick in temper but he has 
grown so gentle and considerate. But i;t is 
something that rouses him to white heat. 
We have always been such dear friends since 
that time of the great sorrow, and it is not about 
the boys, I know. Oh, Zay, what is the matter? 
You look ill — you must have a fever, your 
eyes show it.” 

“The doctor called it a feverish cold. He 
is coming again this afternoon.” She was 
half listening to the tumult in the library, 
and she shook as if in an ague. 

“Oh, there they go again. Why — they are 
going out, and she went to the hall to call to 
her husband but the door was flung to as if 


184 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

in a passion. Then someone entered and ran 
lightly upstairs. 

“Mother, Zay, what is the row about? 
Father looks as if he — but he never does 
drink and they are going to Mrs. Barring- 
ton’s. ” 

Zay buried her face in her hands and began 
to sob. 

“Oh, mother, what is it? Has Vin met 
with some accident? And we were so happy 
yesterday! Do you remember the old story 
of the gods being jealous of the happiness of 
mortals? There was nothing to wish for.” 

“I do not know what it is, but it has ex- 
cited your father desperately and I am afraid 
Zay is going to be ill.” 

“My dear Zay — I should not have kept 
you out so late last night. We called at the 
Norton’s and had a little dance. Don’t you 
need the doctor — ” 

“He was in. He is coming this afternoon. 
Oh, my head aches—” 

“And you look fit to drop, mother. Let 
me call the nurse.” 

Freida gently impelled Mrs. Crawford to 
her own room and laid her on the lounge, 
making passes over her brow and chafing her 
cold hands. 


Unraveling Tangled Threads 185 

“Now, lie still and get tranquil, and I will 
see to the young lady.” 

“I would like to put you in a hot bath 
with plenty of salt, and then give you a good 
rub. Why, you have gone all to pieces, as 
you Americans say.” 

Zaidee made no demur. Willard went and 
read aloud to his mother. The girl was 
bathed and rubbed and rolled in a blanket. 
She felt real drowsy, but the thought haunted 
her — what if Louie Howe had been taken ill 
with scarlet fever and they had sent word to 
Mrs. Barrington? Then Louie must have 
confessed and the three would be impli- 
cated. No wonder her father was angry! 

She tossed around for awhile but, in spite, 
of her mental excitement she fell asleep. 
The luncheon hour passed; no one wanted to 
eat. Then Major Crawford let himself in 
with his latchkey. He was very pale now. 

“Oh, is there bad news?” asked Willard. 

“It depends on — how your mother takes 
it. Such a strange story — I can hardly credit 
it myself. Do not let us be interrupted unless 
I have to summon someone,” and he passed 
on his way upstairs. 


CHAPTER XI 


STANDING UP TO THE MARK 

Lilian Boyd bathed her mother’s face and 
hands as usual and prepared her breakfast. 
Her eyes were brighter, her voice stronger, 
but the girl noticed that her face seemed a 
little swollen and the lines about her mouth 
had lost their flexibility. 

“You are surely better. You have more 
appetite,” yet the tone was not hopeful. 

“Oh, my dear, it is nearer the end, and it is 
best. You will do better without me, and what if 
you should find someone — a father to be proud 
of you? Such things have happened, and I 
may have kept you out of something that was 
your right. Oh, will God forgive me?” 

Lilian caught the thin hand and pressed 
it to her lips. 

“Mother, you must not worry about this. 
Suppose my own mother was a widow like 
you going to a new home to earn her living. 
Why, I might have been put in some Chil- 
dren’s Asylum. And I have had many comforts 
and a love willing to make sacrifices. I have 
been a dreamy girl building air castles for the 
future, but I would have worked hard to 


186 


Standing up to the Mark 187 

make them real. I see now how much is 
needed and I am not afraid ” 

“Oh, if I could think you had lost nothing 
through my selfish love ” 

“But it was your friend who sent us here. 
And you are not sorry we came?” 

“Oh, my child, it was truly God’s providence. 
Mrs. Barrington has been so good. She will 
help you to attain your best aims. Since we 
have been here I have realized the difference 
between us that I only felt vaguely before. 
You belong to these people. You have their 
ways and it is not all education, either. This 
is why I feel your people could not have been 
in the common walks of life.” 

She paused, exhausted. 

“Now, you must not talk any more but try 
to sleep. Shall I read to you?” 

“No, not now. Oh, Lilian, you will not 
tire of me? You will not leave me? It cannot 
be long ” 

“No, no, and this will be my home. Let 
that comfort you.” 

Lilian took up some embroidery. Mrs. 
Barrington had merely looked in to inquire. 
How still the house seemed, and she was in 
a highly nervous mood. What if Major Craw- 
ford should not believe the story? Well, 


1 88 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


Lilian Boyd should never know how near she 
had come to being a heroine of romance, and 
she should achieve some of her desires. 

Mrs. Boyd drowsed. Yes, it was really the 
providence of God that she should be re- 
moved. She would always have the things 
she most desired, which she, Mrs. Boyd could 
not have given her in the pretty home Lilian 
had been planning. She had been happy with 
her lover, then her husband. But, Lilian 
would shrink from the kiss of the grimy man 
fresh from his hard work, and after his brief 
ablutions, sitting down to supper in his 
shirt sleeves and then lighting his pipe and 
pushing his baby up and down the front walk, 
jesting and laughing with the neighbors. 
There were blocks of them, most of them happy 
women, too, except when the babies came too 
fast or died out of their arms. And a few 
games of cards in the evening, a play now and 
then merry enough to keep one laughing. 
No, it would never have done for Lilian. 

And she would feel out of place in the life 
to which the girl aspired. She would never 
get quite at ease with these refined friends 
whose talk was of books and music and the 
part great men and women were playing in 
the world. 


Standing up to the Mark l8 9 

How many times does one have a fore- 
shadowing of the real things that affect life! 
One may be heavy hearted for days groping 
about fearsomely and suddenly the cloud 
lifts without any misfortune. Then swift in 
the happiest hour comes the stroke that 
crushes one. Lilian looked straight ahead 
in her life. She would serve her time here and 
repay Mrs. Barrington for her generous kind- 
ness. 

In a lovely old town like Mount Morris, 
the lines of caste get unconsciously drawn. 
Where people have lived hundreds of years 
and can trace back to some titled ancestor 
perhaps, where they have never known the 
hard grind of poverty, but have worked on 
the higher lines. There had been several 
noted clergymen, two bishops, scholars, sen- 
ators and even an ambassador abroad. There 
was no especial pride in this, it was simply what 
was to be expected of sons growing up in this 
refined, upright and moral atmosphere. But 
they sometimes passed rather proudly by 
those of the next lower round who bent their 
energies to money making. 

Lilian had soon come to understand that 
and her personal pride kept her aloof from 
any chance of snubs. But she would want 


190 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

a wider world presently that was not bounded 
by a grandfather or a fortune that had de- 
scended through generations. 

There were moments when Mrs. Boyd’s 
confession seemed a feverish dream. She did 
not dare build anything on it, because she 
had indulged in some romantic dreams and 
longings, because there had been wounded 
vanity almost to a sense of shame, she held 
herself to a strict account. No matter what 
she might gain here, she would always be 
considered Mrs. Boyd’s daughter. She had 
not expected to be received with the young 
ladies of the school, and had taken no notice 
of the little rudenesses that might have had a 
better excuse if she had been trying to crowd 
in. So all the refinements of birth and edu- 
cation did not always conduce to the higher 
generosity of heart. 

Miss Arran came gently in the room with 
an anxious glance toward the bed. 

“Mrs. Barrington wishes to see you in the 
library, Miss Boyd. I will stay here with 
your mother.” 

Lilian laid down her work as she rose and 
said: “Mother is asleep now.” 

Then she went slowly down the wide stair- 
way, her eyes lingering on some of the panels 


Standing up to the Mark 191 

that had been painted in by a true artist. 

“My dear child,” the lady said in a voice 
that seemed full of emotion, you must have 
felt from the beginning that I had taken an 
unusual interest in you. You suggested some 
person that I could not quite place, but came 
to know afterward that it was one of my early 
scholars, a most charming girl. She married 
happily and had two sons, but they both 
longed for a daughter. Providence listened to 
their prayers and sent them a double portion, 
two lovely girls. My friend’s husband was 
a soldier stationed on the frontier and in an 
Indian raid was quite severely wounded. It 
was not deemed best to risk moving him and 
she resolved to go out to him. One of the 
babies, the first born was larger and stronger 
than the other, and she determined to take 
this one with a most excellent nurse she had. 
You heard the story Mrs. Boyd told. My 
friend was in the same frightful accident — 1 
the nurse was killed outright, but the baby by 
some miracle had not so much as a scratch. 
The only other baby was crushed beyond 
recognition.” 

Lilian sprang up, then the room seemed 
to swim round. She caught at the chair back 
to steady herself and gave a great gasp. 


192 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“Oh, and my mother, Mrs. Boyd, took the 
child, but they all thought the nurse the 
real mother. And, oh — she could not bear 
to give up the baby. Oh, you must forgive 
her.” 

“In the confusion I can see that it was very 
easily done. Dr. Kendricks went out at 
once. He found the mother gravely injured 
and the word was that the baby was dead. 
It was beyond recognition. Mrs. Boyd, who 
had only been stunned, had gone on her way. 
You have heard her side of the story, knowing 
the other side when Miss Arran detailed it, 
we sent for Dr. Kendricks and pieced it all 
together. You have been so occupied with 
your supposed mother, and I must say you 
have been a devoted daughter, that you have 
hardly noted our excitement and interest. 
The confession established the facts beyond 
a doubt in our minds, but we were not sure 
how the father would take it. And the place 
has altered immeasurably; there have been 
so many accidents since, that that has passed 
into oblivion. But no one can dispute the 
proof. Your mother was a noticeably hand- 
some girl; but there is a curious resemblance, 
and it grows upon one. 


Standing up to the Mark 193 

“And I am scarcely handsome at all,” the 
girl said, slowly. 

“Have you no curiosity to know whom 
you belong to?” studying Lilian intently. 

“Oh, I dare not ask, I hardly dare believe! 
It is so mysterious. She, yes, I will call her 
mother, though there might be a father 
somewhere. And was that beautiful woman 
they believed dying ” 

Lilian clasped her hands over her eyes. Like 
a flash it seemed to pass before her. Zay 
Crawford’s double, some of the girls had called 
her. 

“Oh,” she cried, “can I endure it? What if 
they do not want me?” 

“If they had doubted the story it would 
have been kept from you. Can you guess — ” 

Lilian flung herself in Mrs. Barrington’s 
arms, with a long, dry sob. 

“Oh, do not give me up,” she cried implor- 
ingly. “Let me stay with you. I will serve 
you faithfully for I love you, and these people 
are strangers ” 

“Think, what it must be after her years of 
sorrow to clasp her child in her arms; to know 
that it had been well cared for, tenderly 
loved. Oh, she is your own mother and you 
will come to love her dearly. This morning 


194 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

Dr. Kendricks was to tell Major Crawford 
the story. Fifteen minutes ago word came that 
they would be here. Lilian, your father feels 
hard toward Mrs. Boyd. You know Dr. 
Kendricks would have recognized you if 
she had not taken you away, and it is only 
natural that he should feel indignant.” 

“Must I see him before she — she cannot 
last long. Oh, she must not hear this, and I 
will not leave her until the very last.” 

Then the child suggested her father. 

“There they come,” exclaimed Mrs. Bar- 
rington. 

The two men entered the drawing room. 
Lilian clung to Mrs. Barrington, but that lady 
impelled her forward. 

“This is your daughter, Major Crawford,” 
she said, “and this, my dear, is your own 
father.” 

Lilian stood like a statue. It was as if she was 
turning to stone. Oh, he could not deny her. 
The clear cut features, the golden bronze 
hair, the proud figure that seemed to add 
dignity to the whole. So, her mother had 
stood, in girlhood. 

“Oh, my child! my child! have you no 
word of gladness for me after these long years! 
The baby I never saw — my Marguerite.” 


Standing up to the Mark 195 

Was her tongue frozen and her lips stiff? 
Oh, what should she say? How could she 
welcome this stranger? 

“And that cruel woman has stolen your 
love from us, as she stole your beautiful 
body. Oh, where is she? Let me see her!” 

“You were to keep calm, Major,” exclaimed 
the doctor. We have gone over all this, and 
the poor woman is dying. To upbraid her 
now would be nothing short of murder.” 

The Major glanced wildly around. “Why 
think of our loss and sorrow. She knew the 
child was not hers. And she ran off like a 
thief in the night. Oh, I can’t forgive her.” 

“Oh, you must,” cried the girl with the 
first gleam of emotion she had shown. “For 
she mistook the nurse for the mother. Every- 
thing must have been in confusion. She 
thought of me as a motherless baby, perhaps 
to be cast on charity ” 

“But all these years! And poverty, when a 
lovely home awaited you; brothers and a 
sweet sister and such a mother! Oh, she ought 
to know and suffer for the crime.” 

“She was almost crazy with her own grief. 
And she was good and tender and devoted to 
me. She shall not suffer for it in her dying 
moments.” 


196 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

She stood there proudly, her face a-light 
with a sort of heroic devotion. So her mother 
would have taken up any wrong. Was he 
unduly bitter? 

“Oh, my darling, have you no love for me? 
No want for your own sweet mother — ” 

Something in his pleading tone touched 
her and his face betrayed strong agitation. 
His arms seemed to hang listlessly by his 
side. She took a few steps toward him and 
then they suddenly clasped her in a vehement 
embrace. 

The doctor glanced at Mrs. Barrington and 
they both left the room. 

“It has been a hard fight,” he said. “He 
was so enraged at first that I was afraid 
he would come and have it out with the 
dying woman. The fact that she knew the 
child was not hers and yet took it away 
seemed to stir all the blood in his body. Poor 
thing — one has to feel sorry for her; but he 
raged over the privations he thought his child 
had endured, and her being here in an 
equivocal position. The Crawfords were 
always very proud. And one could not ex- 
pect a girl just in the dawn of womanhood 
to fly to a strangers arms.” 


Standing up to the Mark 197 

“Yet it took her so by surprise, and she 
has a proud, reticent nature.” 

“Let us go and see Mrs. Boyd.” 

Major Crawford felt the girl’s heart beating 
against his own. He raised the face and 
kissed it, amid tears, deeply touched. 

“You must forgive me. You do not know 
what it is to have some one stand between 
you and your child all these years. I used to 
dream how it would have been with twin girls 
running about, climbing one’s knees, doing a 
hundred sweet and tender things. Zay has 
been so lovely, so loving; but all these years 
we never forgot you. We gave the most 
fervent thanks for your mother’s recovery, 
and when you are safe in her arms — oh, it 
seems almost as if it was too much joy.” 

“It is so strange,” and her voice was 
tremulous. “For I never could have dreamed 
of anything like this. I did not dream, for 
it seemed as if a man who had lost wife and 
child would want to begin over again, and 
in a good many ways I tried to believe I 
had been too visionary — longing for things 
quite beyond my reach. So I have been 
praying that God would send what was best 
for me and trying to make myself content. 
Oh, are you quite sure there is no mistake?” 


198 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

and there was a pitifully beseeching sound in 
her voice. 

If we can believe that thief of a woman. 
Oh, to think she should carry away our baby 
and leave us her little dead child, and the 
only half conquered passion flamed up in 
his face again. 

“But, you see, if I had been the nurse’s 
child as she thought, the poor nurse who was 
dead, it would be a brave and tender act ” 

“I have no pity for her. You must come 
away. Oh, Marguerite, there is your own 
sweet mother, who when she hears will want 
to clasp you to her heart at once. And Zaidee, 
your twin sister ” 

She shrank and stiffened a little. Zaidee 
Crawford would not be so glad to welcome 
her. She felt it in her inmost heart. For 
she had been the pet and darling of the house- 
hold all these years. All the girls had paid her 
a curious sort of homage. She had been 
invested with a halo of romance, and generous 
as she seemed with her equals, she had estab- 
lished a rigorous distance between them. 
Lilian fancied she was annoyed by the sug- 
gestion of a resemblance between them. 

Her father was momentarily piqued by 


Standing up to the Mark 199 

the unyielding lines of her figure and the 
hesitancy. 

“Oh, my child you must take in the 
strength, the absolute reality of our claim, 
unless you cannot believe this woman — ” 

“I would stake my very life on her truth, 
and I can recall so many things that seemed 
strange to me then, especially these last 
two years. She so dreaded leaving me alone 
in the world, and I am not willing to embitter 
her last moments. You see she never thought 
of my parents being in a much higher walk in 
life, and the knowledge that she had kept 
me out of so much would be a cruel stab. No, 
let me wait until it is all over, and you have 
accepted the strange story truly. There are 

others beside yourself ” 

Her eyes were full of tears as she raised 
them. It was noble to take this view, though 
he really grudged it. 

“You mean then to stay here until — ” 

“I have promised sacredly, solemnly. There 
may be some things to certify. Mrs. Barrington 
spoke of one, that the confession, ought to be 
signed before witnesses.” 

“Yes, though we should never doubt. And 
if there was any question there might be a 
legal adoption;” then he paused. His wife 


200 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


had not heard the story yet. Yes, his anger 
had hurried him along with scarcely a thought 
of all that needed to be done. He had dreamed 
of the joy of bringing the mother and daughter 
together. Yes, she must be prepared. 

“Perhaps you are right,” he admitted, 
reluctantly. “Yet — oh, how can I leave you. 
It seems as if the joy would vanish.” 

“I do not think I shall vanish,” and she 
half smiled through her tears. 

The doctor came downstairs with a grave 
face. 

“There has been a sudden change. The 
paralysis has crept upward. She is moaning 
for you. Go to her.” 

Lilian flashed out of the room. 

“Are you convinced?” asked the doctor. 

“Oh, positively. And what a noble girl! 
I hate to have her love that woman so, and 
yet it shows a true and generous nature. Why, 
I think some girls would have gone wild 
over the prospect.” 

“Mrs. Barrington is enthusiastic about her 
and she has had a wide experience with girls. 
But my dear Major, there is a good deal to be 
done. Your wife must hear the story, and we 
must consider her health, her nervous system 
must not have too severe a shock. And this 


Standing up to the Mark 201 

Mrs. Boyd must attest her confession in 
some way. She can hardly speak intelligibly. 
With your permission, I’ll hunt up Ledwith. 
It’s best to have everything secure.” 

“Yes, yes. And, doctor, I want to apologize 
for my anger and unreason this morning. 
Why, we are half brutes after all. I believe I 
could have almost murdered that woman for 
stealing my darling baby and sneaking off 
without a word of inquiry. I do not yet see 
how Marguerite can forgive her for keeping 
her out off her birthright all these years; 
for dragging her through poverty and all 
kinds of menial labor; and here she was the 
caretaker’s daughter! Think of it — my child, 
Zay’s sister! Even now when the child pleads 
for her so earnestly I cannot really forgive her. 
Will you pardon me for my outbreak? My 
child is tenderer and more generous than I.” 

“The poor woman has come to the last 
stages. It is a matter of only a few days. It 
would be cruel to part them now.” 

“You are all against me,” with a sad smile. 

“You must go home and explain this matter 
to Mrs. Crawford, and to your sister. Then 
send the confession to Ledwith. I will see him. 
And, oh, I promised to drop in and see Zay. 
She has some nervous crochet in her head.” 


202 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


“Is she really ill?” the father asked in alarm. 

“She has some cold and a little fever. 
Don’t excite her.” 

They walked away together. The doctor 
found Zay’s fever much higher and she was 
in a state of great excitement. 

“Oh, what has happened,” she cried. “What 
was papa so angry about? And you took him 
away ” 

“A matter of business that he could not 
look at reasonably at first. And it may be 
a delightful surprise for you, so you must 
do your utmost to get well. Men have many 
bothers, my dear.” 

“It was not about Vincent?” 

“Oh, dear, no. There was a telegram from 
him. He reached West Point all right, and all 
is going well. Now, I shall give you a com- 
posing draught and order you to sleep all 
the afternoon.” 

“And the fever?” tremulously. 

“That’s simply cold and nervousness. You 
will be about well tomorrow,” and he laughed. 

“Mrs. Barrington was — oh, I suppose the 
girls who staid had a dull time.” 

“I didn’t hear any complaints. I guess they 
are all right. Don’t you worry about them or 
anybody.” 


Standing up to the Mark 203 

If she could hear that Louie Howe was well; 
maybe Phil would write tomorrow. Oh, 
she couldn’t be seriously ill or the doctor 
wouldn’t be so indifferent about it. If she 
only could go to sleep and forget about the 
Clairvoyant’s awful den! 


CHAPTER XII 


OH, WILL I BE WELCOME? 

There was a late luncheon and then the 
Major returned to his wife’s sitting room where 
Aunt Kate was keeping her company with 
some exquisite needlework for her darling, 
Zay, who had insisted upon being left alone. 

“I have a curious story to read to you that 
concerns us all. I am glad to have you here, 
Kate, as a sort of ballast. It was what excited 
me so this morning and I was very unreason- 
able. The doctor threatened to put me in a 
straight jacket.” 

Aunt Kate laughed. Mrs. Crawford studied 
her husband intently. 

“Oh, go on with your work. I shall feel 
more composed.” He turned his chair a 
little, ostensibly for the light, but so that his 
wife might not watch his face. 

He began with Mrs. Boyd’s list of mis- 
fortunes after her few years of happiness and 
her resolve to go out to her brother’s. At 
times he stumbled over the poor penmanship 
and halted. 

“Why, it must have been the train I was on,” 
interrupted Mrs. Crawford. “I remember 


204 


Oh, will I be Welcome? 205 

there was a woman with a delicate looking 
child. I believe ours were the only two babies. 
Oh, if I had not taken my little darling! But 
she was so well and strong, such a fine happy 
baby, and nurse Jane was so good.” 

Mrs. Boyd had hurried briefly over the 
terrible collision. 

“Everett,” interrupted his sister with an 
indignant emphasis, why recall that awful 
happening. It can do us no good now.” 

Mrs. Crawford leaned her head on her hand 
and balanced her elbow on the broad arm 
of the chair. 

The Maj or ’s voice shook slightly. Mrs . Boyd 
had been quite graphic about her calling for 
the baby, her care of it from midnight to 
the next morning and settling her mind to 
what the woman had said ; her resolve to keep 
the child when she heard the other mother 
had been killed. She sprang up suddenly. 

“Oh, it was nurse Jane who was killed. And 
she took my baby, my darling. Oh, who was 
she? Can we ever find her?” 

Then she fainted and her husband caught 
her in his arms. 

“Oh, you have killed her!” cried Miss 
Crawford. “How could you recount that 
awful time of suffering, and that the woman 


2 o 6 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


should steal the baby! Oh, that was just it, 
there’s no use mincing matters!” 

It was some minutes before Mrs. Crawford 
regained consciousness, then she gazed im- 
ploringly in her husband’s face. 

“Oh, tell me — where is my darling? Is she 
really alive. Can we find her?” 

“She has been found. She is well and in 
good hands. Oh, my dear wife, I felt vengeful 
at first, but I have come to pity the poor thing. 
Marguerite pleaded for her. And we must be 
thankful that she had the courage to confess 
the matter.” 

“Then — you have seen her?” 

The voice was shaken with emotion. 

“She is at Mrs. Barrington’s.” 

“Oh, can’t we go to her? My dear baby, 
my darling Marguerite! Why, it is almost as 
if she had been sent from heaven.” 

“My dear — ” her husband caught her in his 
arms or she would have fallen in her eagerness. 
“Oh, it will all come right, but you must be 
patient and get stronger. There are reasons 
why she cannot come, or you cannot go, and 
you must hear the rest of the story.” 

“Everett,” began his sister, “how do you 
know but that this is a scheme to extort 
money. How can you be sure it is your child? 


Oh, will I be Welcome? 207 

There are so many swindlers or blackmailers 
in the world.” 

He was arranging his wife on the couch, 
thankful she had borne the tidings so well. 
Then he seated himself beside her, bending 
over to kiss the pallid lips. 

“There can scarcely be any chance for 
fraud. No one would profit by it, and now, 
shall I go on with the story?” 

They both acquiesced. 

There was something so pathetic in the 
fostermother’s love for the child and her fear 
of its being cast on the world as no one seemed 
to know anything about the supposed mother. 
Then her return to her early home; her 
struggles against misfortune, poverty and ill 
health, and after a little, her dismay at finding 
the child so different from what she had been 
herself, so ambitious, so longing for refinement 
and showing such a distaste for common ways. 
The failure of her own health, the impossibility 
of keeping the girl at school any longer when 
Mrs. Barrington’s proffer had seemed a per- 
fect godsend. But it was too late to recover 
the health that had been so shattered by 
poverty and hard work. 

“Well, if it is true she was a courageous 
woman,” declared Miss Crawford. “One 


2 o 8 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


can’t forgive her for taking the child without 
making a single inquiry.” 

“But everything was in such confusion, and 
you will remember that Marguerite lay un- 
conscious for a long while, just hovering 
between life and death. And at that time, 
in the western countries there were not so 
many safeguards. When Dr. Kendricks 
reached the place, Jane and the baby had 
been temporarily buried. Yes, it was easy for 
the thing to happen when Mrs. Boyd wanted 
the baby so much. I can hardly forgive her, 
but we must admit that the confession showed 
an earnest desire to repair the wrong.” 

“Where is she?” 

“At Mrs. Barrington’s. Dr. Kendricks 
thinks she can last but a few days longer and 
the child is resolved to stay until the end. 
I tried to shake her determination but found 
it useless.” 

“I admire her for it,” said Mrs. Crawford. 

“I should doubt her fervent love if it could 
be transferred so easily from poverty to 
wealth. Yes, I am proud of my dear daughter 
whom I have not seen in fifteen years. But 
the whole story is marvellous.” 

“And yet there is nothing impossible about 


Oh, will I be Welcome? 209 

it. We can see how simply it all happened.” 

“What is she like?” 

Mrs. Barrington was quite puzzled about 
a resemblance to some one, and she thinks it 
you. She has not the radiant beauty of 
your girlhood, neither has she the dazzling 
charm of Zay. Oh, I think she is the most like 
Willard; rather too grand for a girl of sixteen, 
with a great deal of dignity. Oh, you should 
hear Mrs. Brmngton talk about her. And 
how do you suppose she and the doctor kept 
the secret yesterday! They knew it would 
disturb our happy Christmas. And she was 
nursing the sick woman.” 

“Oh, did she know?” 

“Not that she was our daughter until this 
morning. I felt bewildered over it all,” and 
Major Crawford gave a deep drawn sigh. 

His wife pressed his hand. Her tears were 
flowing silently. 

“Well — it will be very strange to have her 
here,” remarked Miss Crawford. “But I 
warn you, Zay will always be the dearest to 
me.” 

Twilight was falling around them. Mrs. 
Crawford would never have her own lights 
early. This was her favorite hour with her 
husband. Aunt Kate stole softly to Zay’s 


2io The Girls at Mt. Morris 


room and found her sleeping tranquilly, the 
fever mostly gone. 

“Oh, I wonder how you will take it,” she 
mused. “You have been the darling of the 
household so long.” 

For somehow, she was not in a mood to 
welcome this newcomer. True, there must be 
the strongest proof or Major Crawford would 
not have been convinced or allowed himself 
to get in such a passion with this Mrs. Boyd. 
But a girl reared amid the commonest sur- 
roundings, enduring the straits of poverty, 
lack of education, no accomplishments, how 
could she take her place in the front rank of 
Mount Morris society? And the boys — how 
would they accept this rusticity and probably 
self conceit? 

Major Crawford and his wife often fell 
into tender and mysterious confidences at 
this hour, that were never shared with others. 
They were very happy in her recovery 
though the last two years she had suffered 
very little. But she did not want to depute 
the care of her daughter growing into woman- 
hood entirely to Aunt Kate who had many 
worldly aims and prejudices, and who was 
very proud of her niece’s beauty. And now 
such a load was lifted from her soul that had 


Oh, will I be Welcome? 211 

never quite forgiven itself for taking her 
finest baby on the unfortunate journey. 

“Oh, I must see her,” she cried in a whisper. 

“But she will not come here until all is 
over with that poor woman. I do not see how 
she can care so much for her.” 

“My dear, it shows a true and strong regard. 
Pemember it is the only mother she has ever 
known. To turn at once would show a volatile 
disposition. I have been afraid of that in 
Zaidee, who is easily taken with new friends, 
though I will admit that she does not discard 
the old ones. But I wish sometimes other 
people were not so easily attracted by her.” 

“But she is charming,” said the admiring 
father. 

I hope they will love each other. We must 
expect a little jealously at first. And you 
think she is not — that her narrow life has 
not dwarfed her.” 

“Oh, you should listen to Mrs. Barrington’s 
enthusiasm. You see, it was not an easy place 
to fill, after all. She was in some of the classes, 
but she held herself aloof. Then she taught 
a little among the younger day scholars, and 
kept a certain supervision in the evening 
study hour. Her mother’s position was a 
sort of handicap, she was so very meek and 


2 12 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


retiring. All woman cannot add dignity to 
an inferior position, and young people are 
very apt to take them according to the 
position. Mrs. Barrington was planning 
some changes for the new term that would 
be brought about by the passing away of the 
poor woman. I think she meant, in a way, to 
adopt her.” 

“Oh, she must be worthy, to have made 
such a friend.” 

And the mother was wondering, but dared 
not ask what Marguerite had grown into. She 
was not like Zay, all the coloring was darker. 
Willard was fine looking for a young man, but 
would it not be rather masculine for a girl? 
She had a fancy for the soft attractiveness in 
a woman. 

Then the light came and dinner. Mrs. 
Crawford went to Zay’s room afterward 
and found her comfortable and better, with 
no recurrence of fever, and they had a pleasant 
little chat. 

The next morning a letter came from 
Phillipa, full of merry nonsense about gifts 
and gayety and lovers. She was very well, 
with the very underscored, and two engage- 
ments for every evening. She had not heard 
from Louie, “but I should have if her little 


Oh, will I be Welcome? 213 

finger had ached; she would have been afraid 
of some distemper. And I hope you are all 
having a splendid time.” 

Afterward Dr. Kendricks came in. Yes, she 
was better, the throat was all right; there was 
a slight remnant of the cold, and it would be 
best to be careful for a few days. Oh, yes, she 
could dress herself and go about the house, 
but not out driving. 

“You danced a little too much Christmas 
night, though for the life of me I don’t see 
what you were so nervous about.” 

She flushed and laughed and felt that she 
had escaped a great danger. 

Then he and the Major set out together, 
meeting Mr. Ledwith at the school. The 
doctor went upstairs. Lilian met him with 
anxious eyes. 

“Yes, there has been a great change. She 
has gone more rapidly than I thought. Can 
she speak?” 

“Hardly. Now and then a word. Yet she 
understands all that I say to her,” Lilian 
returned, gravely. “But she was quite rest- 
less during the night.” 

He nodded. ‘ You see, my dear Miss Boyd — 
you will be that until you take your new name, 
the confession has no signature. It might 


214 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

never be called in question but sometimes, 
years afterward, in the various changes of 
property, it might be necessary to establish 
a legal identity. Can you make her understand 
this? And you can attest most of her story. I 
will call up Mr. Ledwith. And your father is 
most desirous of being present. He will make 
no trouble.” 

She went out in the hall to meet him. 

“My dear,” he said, “I am more reasonable 
than I was yesterday. Your lovely mother has 
placed some views in a different light, and 
she is most glad that you have never lacked 
for a fervent love and care. And we both for- 
give her.” 

“Oh, thank you for that. Though Mrs. 
Barrington advises that she had better not 
be told of the discovery. You see she is so 
tranquil now, knowing that I am provided for.” 

Then they entered the room. Mrs. Boyd 
scarcely noticed them, but her eyes questioned 
Lilian, who began to explain, holding the poor 
hand in hers. Mrs. Boyd seemed confused 
at first, then she said with some difficulty — 
“Yes, yes.” 

Lilian and Miss Arran pillowed her up in a 
sitting posture and placed the material on a 
portable desk. 

“It is just to sign your name.” 


Oh, will I be Welcome? 215 

She seemed to listen as Mr. Ledwith read 
the affadavit, and nodded, with her eyes on 
Lilian, who put the pen in her hand, but she 
could not clasp it. 

I think you will have to guide it. She does 
not understand.” 

Lilian took the poor shaking hand in hers, 
and the sick woman looked up into her face 
and smiled. 

It was written, but even Lilian’s hand 
shook a little. “Emma Eliza Boyd.” 

“That is all, dear,” said the girl. 

She made a great effort to articulate, and 
her eyes had a frightened look in them. 
“You — will not — go?” 

“Oh, no, no,” returned Lilian, with a kiss. 

“Tired — tired,” she gasped. 

They laid her down and gave her a spoonful 
of stimulant but she only swallowed a little 
of it. 

The others left the room. Dr. Kendricks 
shook his head slowly. Mr. Ledwith gave the 
last page of the confession to Major Crawford. 
Lilian sat on the side of the bed, chafing the 
cool hands that had grown more helpless since 
yesterday, and presently Mrs. Boyd slept, 
but one could hardly note the breathing. 

Mrs. Barrington looked in and beckoned 
to Lilian. 


216 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


“Your own mother is here,” she said softly. 
“And I feel like putting in another claim, but 
I cannot displace the rightful one. You will 
find her in the library.” 

Lilian went slowly down. The beautiful 
woman she had seen in church, the woman who 
had lain like dead when Mrs. Boyd glanced 
upon her, the mother who had missed her 
all these years! The tall figure rose with the 
softness of a cloud longing to embrace the 
moon, with arms outstretched, and the child 
went to them in the caress of divine satisfac- 
tion. For this was the mother of her dreams 
and ideals, and their souls were as one. 

They kissed away each others tears. 

“I felt that I must come, that I must see 
you. But I am not going to take you away, 
much as I long for you, since you have a 
sacred duty here. When that is finished 
we will begin our lives together. At first, your 
father was mad with jealously that she 
should have dared to love you so much, but 
now he is glad as I am that you did not suffer 
from coldness or indifference. That would have 
broken my heart.” 

“And I am afraid I did not always return 
love for love. I was always dreaming, desiring 
something I had not. She worked for me all 


Oh, will I be Welcome? 217 

those early years. I had resolved as soon as 
was possible to be her caretaker, to put in 
her life the things she desired, whether they 
pleased me or not. It did not take much to 
make her happy. 

“And no man can understand the longing 
of a woman’s soul when her child has been 
torn from her arms. Poor empty arms, that 
no prayer can fill. And this was why she 
snatched at the baby, believing it was 
motherless. Yes, I forgave her and so did he 
when he came to look at it in the true light. 
Some women, when times pressed hard in 
work and poverty, would have placed you in 
an institution ” 

“Oh, I think she would have starved first!” 
interrupted the girl, vehemently. 

“And now, if God grants it, we may have a 
long, satisfying life together. For He has given 
me back my health like a miracle, as we 
had thought it could never be, and were quite 
resigned. And now He has restored all that 
we missed, given us the oil of joy for mourning. 
Oh, child, let me look at you. As a baby 
you were so different from Zaidee, it hardly 
seemed as if you could be twins; and you are 
taller, yes, you are more like Willard. But you 
have my eyes, and I never was fairy-like. 


218 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


Oh, I hope you girls will love each other, and 
I want you to love me with all your heart to 
make up for those years that have fallen out of 
our lives.” 

The exquisitely soft, silvery laugh was 
music to the girl's heart. Yes, this was the 
ideal mother. Was there some secret quality 
in heridity, after all? 

They talked on and on. She wanted to hear 
more particulars of her daughter's life, but 
Lilian softened some of the roughest places, 
the fights she had had with herself, when she 
felt she must give up her cherished school, 
the pleasure of coming to an atmosphere like 
this, the warm interest of Mrs. Barrington. 

“And now I must leave you,” said the 
mother, “but I take with me a delightful 
hope. When your duty is done here, and I 
appreciate your doing it, you will find your 
true home in my heart and my home. Oh, 
I think you will never be able to understand 
all my joy.” 

She rose and wiped away her tears. Yes, 
she was beautiful enough to adore. Her own 
mother! It thrilled every pulse. 

“Oh, my dear, let us both thank God for 
this restoration. It is like a heavenly dream. 
I must have time to get used to it.” 


Oh, will I be Welcome? 219 

Lilian watched her as she stepped into the 
phaeton, with its handsome bays and the 
silver mountings. And Zaidee could have 
every wish gratified; friends, music, travel. 
It was there for her, also. She had never 
dreamed of that. 


CHAPTER XIII 


a mother's love 

Mrs. Boyd had not stirred. Lilian bent 
over her and found the breathing very faint. 
Miss Arran sat by the window and merely 
glanced up. The girl buried her face in the 
pillow and heard again the soft, finely modu- 
lated voice, the clasp of the hand that meant 
so much, the promise for tomorrow. 

“If they were not so rich," her musings 
ran, “If I could do something for her. Oh, it 
s eems too much. If we could go away 
— but to face all the girls, to hear the com- 
ments." 

“Miss Boyd, can you spare me a few mo- 
ments," said Mrs. Dane. “Mrs. Arran will 
watch." 

Lilian followed to Mrs. Dane's room. 

“Miss Boyd, I have an apology to make to 
you, and I am honest enough to confess it. 
I can't just tell why, but I did take a dislike 
to you and your mother. She seemed very weak 
and as if she was afraid a baleful secret might 
come to light, and you were the master mind 
holding some curious power over her." 


220 


A Mother’s Love 


221 


“Oh, it was not that,” cried Lilian, eagerly. 
“It was because in her simple life she had 
not been accustomed to the usages that 
obtained in the larger world. Often I did 
guide her a little. She was very timid.” 

“And it seemed to me — of course I under- 
stand it now, that you held your head quite 
too high for your mother’s daughter. I was 
brought up to do my duty in that station 
of life to which it should please God to call 
me, and not try to get out of it. You seemed 
above it — somehow ” 

“Oh, did I act that way? I was only trying 
to do my duty to the classes and to Mrs. 
Barrington. I did not mean to seem above 
my station,” and there was sob in her voice. 

“My dear, don’t cry. My apology would not 
be worth half so much if I held back part of 
the price. I think I was a little jealous of 
Mrs. Barrington’s favor for you, as I had a 
curious suspicion that something not quite 
orthodox might come out about you, that you 
really were not her child. You see I was not 
so far out of the way after all, and that 
evening I accused you of having gone to the 
Clairvoyants — we had just heard the death 
was from maligant scarlet fever. It would 
have ruined the school for a long while to have 


222 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


it break out here, you know. If the person had 
come out in the open so that I could have 
seen, but her darting back, and I think there 
was more than one. It seems even now as 
if it did look like you, but it might have been 
because it was like the Tam you wore. And 
you appeared so embarrased over it.” 

“Oh, could you believe that I would have 
told such a falsehood?” she cried, hurt to the 
very quick. 

“We thought it best to take precautions. 
Then Mrs. Boyd had her stroke and then came 
her confession and all that has happened 
since. Your devotion to that poor woman was 
enough to stamp the nobleness of your char- 
acter, and it is not because you are Major 
Crawford’s daughter that I say this — that I 
am ashamed of my prejudices and beg you to 
forgive me. Mrs. Barrington was right from 
the beginning and you are worthy of the best 
of fortune.” 

“Oh, Mrs. Dane — ” and her voice broke. 

“I should have felt myself contemptible 
if I had not made this amends, and now if 
you will shake hands with me ” 

“Gladly. And I thank you for the kind- 
liness towards my — yes, she was my mother 
all these years and the sympathy you showed 


A Mother’s Love 


223 

me even before it was proved who my real 
father was.” 

“And I wish you much joy and happiness, 
which you will surely have. And you will be 
fitted to grace any position. You will have 
one of the loveliest of women for a mother, 
and two brothers who, so far, have been most 
exemplary. And that darling, Zay — the whole 
town loves her.” 

Lilian wiped her eyes, and pressed Mrs. 
Dane’s hand fervently. Would Zay proffer her 
a sister’s love? 

She went back to Mrs. Boyd, who suddenly 
opened her eyes and smiled, then the thin 
lids fell. How she had wasted away! She 
tried to recount to herself all the kindnesses, the 
sacrifices Mrs. Boyd had made. And though 
the boarding house had been of the commonest 
sort there had never seemed any real pinches. 
She had even saved up money. It was the 
long illness and the changes incident to it that 
had not only reduced their little store, but 
broken her health and made her fearful of the 
future. She had taken up the sewing then. 
Four years there had been of that. Lilian re- 
membered how proud she had been to enter 
the High School among the best scholars. 

And some day she would teach. It was such 


224 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

a delightful vision. She studied other things 
beside the ordinary lessons. She loved to play 
and at times when she had turned her brain 
almost upside down she ran out and had a 
game of tag with the girls. 

There were other evenings when she over- 
cast long seams and pulled bastings, and the 
last year she had learned to sew on the machine. 
With scanty living and steady work, her moth- 
er had dropped down and down. But she was 
glad she had offered to go in the shop. When 
matters were a little easier she might try 
night school she had thought. 

And this beautiful school was like an en- 
trance into a land of romance. The luxuri- 
ous living, at least it seemed so to her, would 
soon restore her mother’s health. The duties 
were light. She had time for reading and oh, 
the lovely things! She did at times wish there 
had been some other position for her mother, 
like that of Miss Arran’s. But she understood 
that Mrs. Boyd could not fill that. She lacked 
something, she had' no real dignity, no self- 
assertion. She allowed the girls to order her, 
and Lilian wondered how these rich girls, 
who in some respects had polished manners, 
could be so ill bred. For somehow she un- 
derstood the difference. 


A Mother’s Love 


225 


There were several with whom she might 
have been good friends, but she was too 
proud to step outside of what she considered 
her real station. 

And now this wonderful event had come to 
her and she seemed to undertsand the thoughts 
and feelings that had been such a mystery. 
When she had been clasped to her true moth- 
er’s heart, it appeared to her as if a veil had 
been drawn aside, and she had stepped into 
a larger room, replete with all she had vaguely 
dreamed about. That Crawford House was 
one of the fine old places, she knew, but 
she never thought of that luxurious living 
where all the tomorrows had been provided 
for. She would have gone to the simplest 
cottage for that mother’s love. 

Would Zaidee Crawford give her a sister’s 
warm welcome? She would never grudge her 
anything money could buy; but she, Lilian, 
must seem like an interloper to them. And 
to share her mother’s love with a stranger! 

Miss Arran entered the room. 

“You ought to go to bed, Miss Boyd. I 
will sit here and watch. Your mother seems 
asleep.” 

Lilian changed her dress for a comfortable 
wrapper, kissed her mother’s forehead and 


226 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


pressed the cold hands. She did not stir; 
but then she had lain this way for hours at 
a time. The girl drew up her cot to the side 
of her mother’s bed and laid down. The 
clocks all about were striking midnight. 

It had not been so tranquil at Crawford 
House. Dinner had been rather quiet; no one 
seemingly to want to talk at any length. Af- 
terward, Major Crawford had said — - 

“Let us all go up to mother’s room. I have 
a singular explanation to make to you two 
children. Aunt Kate has known it these two 
days.” 

“There has seemed something mysterious 
in the air,” exclaimed Willard, “only I am 
sure nothing worse has happened to mother. 
She looks so extraordinarily happy, and Zay 
is about again.” 

“We must go back to the time of the acci- 
dent,” began the Major. We thought we had‘ 
overlived the sorrow and we had never ex- 
pected any joy for the outcome.” 

He paused to steady his voice, then began 
the story of the other woman, the only -pas- 
senger who carried an infant, her hours of 
unconsciousness, her hearing the cry of the 
child and claiming it and then learning that 
the woman she believed its mother had been 


A Mother’s Love 


227 


killed and full of pity forit, since her own had 
been mangled and carried away, resolved to 
take it and care for it. She left the next day — ” 

“Oh, you don't mean she took our baby,” 
cried Willard passionately, his eyes aflame. 

“She took our baby. She has cared for it 
all these years through poverty and failing 
health and now that she is dying, she thought 
the child ought to know. They have been 
at Mrs. Barrington’s since some time in 
August.” 

Zaidee sprang up, but her face was ghostly 
pale and there was a tremulous protest in 
her voice. 

“Oh, it is that Mrs. Boyd, the caretaker and 
her daughter!” she exclaimed, drawing a 
long strangling breath full of protest. 

“Our daughter,” said her father with 
emphasis.” Then he went on to relate how 
the matter had been brought to his notice 
and his unreasonable anger at first a^ be could 
not doubt the story vouched for by Doctor 
Kendricks, his interview with the child and 
Mrs. Barrington, Mrs. Crawford’s visit to 
her yesterday. 

“What a wonderful story!” Willard sprang 


228 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


up and began to pace the floor. “I suppose 
it is true. That baby couldn’t have died and 
she adopted another one.” 

“How do we know that she did not?” said 
Miss Crawford, protestingly. 

“She was anxious that the girl in some 
manner might find her father’s people. You 
see, she was sure the mother was dead. Oh, 
there is enough to convince you all. Dr. 
Kendricks and Mr. Ledwith have no doubt 
of the truth of her story. There is no scheme 
in it. And it was thought best, in her weakened 
state, not to try any explanations.” 

“It was nurse Jane who died, and the dead 
baby was buried with her. Ah, one glance 
at the girl would convince you,” said the 
mother in the tenderest voice. 

“But — why didn’t she come here at once?” 

“She was very noble about it. And this is 
another factor in the story. She would not 
leave the mother who had worked and toiled 
for her; so you see she was not tempted by 
the thought of advancement. She was afraid 
to believe the outcome of the story at first. 
Oh, I am proud of her, though at first I was 
really cruel. I wanted the woman punished.” 

“After all,” said Willard, “if the baby had 
been friendless and an orphan it would have 
been very noble in her.” 


A Mother’s Love 


229 


“You shall read her confession some day. 
It is pathetic. She thought she had lost her 
all and clung to the baby. Oh, we must all 
forgive her.” 

“And what do you mean to do?” asked 
Miss Crawford. “It is going to make a great 
stir for it cannot be kept a secret, and I hate 
gossip about families.” 

“Yes, the thing must be explained. I have 
given what of the story I want known to a 
reporter this afternoon. After the poor woman 
has gone, Marguerite will come here to her 
true home and life.” 

“Why, Zay, you must have known her at 
the school,” said Willard. “It seems she was 
studying ” 

“Oh, they are all on the other side away 
from the boarders. She was in the study 
room an hour in the evening, with the smaller 
girls. We were all at a different table that we 
had to ourselves. And — somehow, I never 
saw much of her. I didn’t have to go to Mrs. 
Boyd for my mending.” 

Aunt Kate had put her arm about Zay at 
the beginning of the story. The mother noted 
with a pang that there was no real welcome 
in this daughter’s face. Was it jealousy?” 

Willard stood between his parents and laid 
a hand on the shoulder of each. 


230 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“Oh,” in a voice freighted with emotion. 
“I can’t tell you how glad and thankful I am 
that this sorrow of years is to be turned into 
such a great all-pervading joy. We will be 
a perfect family again. Why, it will be the 
romance of our lives! It almost makes me 
wish I were not going away. And since you 
have seen her and are satisfied — mother ” 

He stooped to kiss her. 

“Oh,” she returned, brokenly, “I want you 
all to love her, and be patient with Zay. She 
has always been first so long.” 

“I think if I was a girl I’d be wild to have a 
sister to tell things to — the little things a 
fellow tells his sweetheart, I suppose, when he 
has one,” laughing. “Vin and I discuss our 
gettings along and our hopes and some funny 
scrapes that boys get into. But girls look at 
the romantic side. And you can’t think — but 
Vm proud of this romance. Why, it will be 
something to tell over to our children, and 
father’s been a trump, but I think its a good 
deal owing to you. Oh, I hope she is like you.” 

The mother smiled as she kissed him. 

Zay came to say good-night. Her face had 
grave lines that were not wont to be there. 

“Oh, my darling,” the mother said, “this 
is one of the things that cannot make any 


A Mother’s Love 


231 


difference in our love for you. And if you could 
only understand the burthen it had lifted 
off my soul. A hundred times I have said: 
‘Oh, why did I take baby Marguerite on that 
journey?’ She was so strong and well and I 
was so proud of her, I wanted your father to 
see her.” 

“And you will be proud of her again. She 
is going to be a fine scholar, and Fm just 
pretty to look at, that’s all! I can’t make 
myself love anyone all in a moment,” and she 
gave a little sob. 

“My child, the love will come if you do 
not steel your heart against it. Think, Zay, a 
twin sister ” 

“But she is larger, different and a sort of 
story heroine. Everyone will be interested 
in her and I shall be pushed quite to the wall.” 

“Oh, Zay, you are a foolish little girl. But 
you have had all the admiration and love, 
and we must wait patiently until you under- 
stand that love can never be impoverished 
by giving. Think of this, pray for a generous 
heart, and let her love you.” 

Aunt Kate was waiting in her room. And 
Zay’s overcharged heart gave way to a passion 
of weeping on the friendly bosom. 

“Dear, I know how hard it is to be crowded 


2 32 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

out. Of course everyone will flock around her 
for a while and never having had much 
admiration she will be the more eager for it. 
And as will be perfectly natural when the first 
interest is worn off, the real grain will be 
apparent and 1 dare say she will show her 
common breeding. Why, this Mrs. Boyd had 
next to no education. I shouldn’t want anyone 
to see that so-called confession, but I dare say 
your father will keep it close enough, for he 
would be ashamed to have any one see it. I’m 
sorry the story had to get abroad, but your 
father thought there would be so many sur- 
mises, and perhaps, exaggerations. It’s a horrid 
thing to live through, but your mother is 
so much happier. Why, she seemed ten years 
younger. And you will always have a staunch 
friend in me. No one can oust you from my 
heart if she had all the gifts of the nine 
graces. Oh, you will come back to your right- 
ful place, never fear.” 

But Zay wept herself to sleep with an ache 
in her heart that crowded out all tender 
feelings. 

After a long while Lilian Boyd fell asleep 
and there came no disturbance. Just at day- 
light Miss Arran leaned over the bed and 
touched the cold face, felt for the heart. 


A Mother’s Love 


233 


There was ot the faintest motion. There had 
not been a sound or a sigh, she had just lapsed 
into her dreamless sleep. She summoned Mrs. 
Dane. 

"It is much better so. There will be 
nothing painful to remember,” said that lady. 

“Mother, mother !” and Lilian roused sud- 
denly. 

“My dear,” said Miss Arran, “she has gone 
to her rest in the most peaceful manner. The 
doctor said it might be so, and you have done 
your full duty. My dear, you can go to your 
own mother’s arms with the clearest con- 
science. I am glad, we are all glad that you 
elected to stay, though your father, in his first 
indignation, would have swept you away. 
I hardly see how you won your way. Come 
to Mrs. Dane’s room and have a cup of coffee.” 

She gave one long look at the still face. Oh, 
how thin and worn it was, yet there was a 
certain peacefulness that comforted the girl. 
Mrs. Barrington came in and kissed her ten- 
derly. “It is all as we would have it,” she said. 
“And whatever mistake Mrs. Boyd might have 
made must be balanced by the thought that 
if there had been no one, as she believed, she 
would have taken you to her heart just as 
gladly, done for you with the same cheerful- 


234 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

ness. This is what she did; you must always 
keep it in mind. And now — can you help make 
some arrangements? Whatever money is 
needed ” 

“Oh, Mrs. Barrington, I think there will be 
enough. She still had some of her insurance 
money that she had used only in emergencies. 
And we have needed so little here. Oh, you 
have all been so kind,” in her grateful, broken 
voice. 

Then Dr. Kendricks was announced. 

“I supposed it would be that way,” he said. 

“Shall I make arrangements for the fu- 
neral. There is no one, I suppose ” 

“It is too far away from her old friends for 
any of them to come, and I am sure Lilian 
would like it as simple and quiet as possible. 
I should say tomorrow morning. No one will 
go out of curiosity.” 

“Then I will see about it at once. The Major 
is all impatience to have his daughter.” 

“You must come and share my room,” 
Mrs. Barrington said to Lilian. 

“Oh, she really doesn't seem any different 
to me,” the girl returned. “She has slept so 
much the last few days, and it is what we 
have expected. God has taken her in His 
keeping and she will have those belonging to 
her. It is a blessed thought.” 


A Mother’s Love 


235 


She sat reading by the window when the 
Crawford phaeton drove up. * Her first feeling 
was that she could not meet her father. But 
a young man sprang out and the coachman 
took charge of the horses. 

“It is your brother/' announced Mrs. 
Barrington. “Oh, do try and see him. Your 
mother wishes it so much.” 

Lilian went down and was clasped to her 
mothers heart and held there many seconds. 

“This is your brother Willard, who is soon 
to leave for Washington and he begged so 
much to see a little of you. His will be a 
three years’ cruise, and I am doubly glad to 
have found another child in view of his long 
absence.” 

Lilian glanced up. It was such a frank, 
kindly face, too young yet for any of his 
father’s sternness. 

“Oh, my dear, I wonder if you will ever 
understand how precious you are going to be 
to us all. It is like one raised from the dead. 
I shall go away with a lighter heart, seeing that 
mother and father have you. We boys have 
been so much to the house with our stirring 
interests; now it will be you and Zaidee. I 
* shall think of you so often. Why, I can readily 
believe any fairy story, and it almost breaks 


236 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

father’s heart that you have been so near all 
these months and none of us known it. You 
will not feel hurt if he sometimes should show 
a little — ” he paused with a flush. “For after 
all it might have been her child who was 

saved ” and she felt the shiver go over 

him. 

“And to know that you were loved all these 
years/’ said the mother holding out her arrns^ 
and both children went to them. “And that 
you never really suffered for anything. Some- 
times I hardly dare believe in and accept this 
great blessing.” 

“Oh, I hope I will prove a blessing,” Lilian 
said, with a great tremble in her voice. “You 
are so good to take me in, to love and trust 
me, knowing so little about me.” 

For of late she had been learning how much 
children could be to parents. 

“But I think Mrs. Barrington had oppor- 
tunities of knowing,” returned her mother 
with a warm pressure, and fond smile. 

Willard had been studying her. “There’s 
something about her like you, mother, and 
something that recalls Vincent. Oh, won’t 
he be surprised! He will want to fly home 
again. Oh, you will not mind if Zaidee carries 
off the family beauty. She is such a dear! 


A Mother’s Love 


237 

And we ought to have one star of the goodly 
Crawford family.” 

“I am glad, and I thought her lovely at the 
first glance. Why, the girls are quite wild 
about her. I shall not mind anything so long 
as you all love me. Oh, I will try to deserve 
it.” 

There were tears in her eyes and her mother 
kissed her tenderly. Then they talked about 
her coming home which could not be until 
her whole duty was performed and there was 
no omission to think of. 

Yet they went lingeringly, loth to leave her. 

“She has a great deal of character;” said 
Willard. “She seems more mature than Zay. 
I am glad they are not alike, though it seems 
rather out of the order for twins. Oh, mother, 
I can foresee that she will be a great deal to 
you in a womanly way. We can never thank 
God enough for her.” 

“And all these years, amid the suffering, 
I have always thought if I had left my darling 
at home. I was so proud of her I wanted your 
father to see her. Zaidee was not such a fine 
looking baby. We had both so ardently 
desired a daughter; indeed we had often said 
two boys and two girls was an ideal family.” 

“And I wouldn't give up Vin — boys have a 


238 The Girls of Mt. Morris 

delightful interest in each others’ lives and 
doings. I suppose sisters feel the same way. 
That is — well, it will be a little strange at 
first. Zay has been our queen so long, and it 
can’t be quite like living together from in- 
fancy.” 

•‘No. So we must make allowance for both 
of them until they reach the true level of 
birthright. Marguerite is very proud and has 
unusually well defined ideas of duty, while 
we have never put anything but love before 
Zay. I expect we have spoiled her.” 

Mount Morris was startled in the midst of 
its Christmas festivities by the remarkable 
announcement that Marguerite, the twin 
baby of Major and Mrs. Crawford, had been 
miraculously saved from the wreck, where the 
nurse and several others had perished. Another 
passenger whose baby had been killed, think- 
ing the nurse was the true mother of the 
child, had taken it to her heart out of pity for 
the helpless little creature, and gone farther 
westward before real inquiries could be made 
as to whether there were any relatives living. 

Mrs. Crawford had insisted upon softening 
what her husband had considered a crime on 
the part of Mrs. Boyd. 


A Mother’s Love 


239 


“Think how she must have loved the little 
creature she thought friendless, to burden her- 
self with it. And I am so thankful my baby 
found loving care. Why, she might have per- 
ished with neglect through that dreadful 
time. We can do nothing for her and we will 
not, must not, traduce her motives, when they 
were prompted by an overwhelming love.” 

So it was represented that Mrs. Boyd had 
taken the position at Mrs. Barrington’s that 
her adopted child might be better educated 
as her own health was failing, which after all 
was the truth, though Lilian’s pleading had 
been a special factor. 

The poor woman’s burial had been quiet, 
in the early morning. Mrs. Barrington and 
Miss Arran had gone with Lilian whose great 
regret had been that there was not sufficient 
money to send her to Laconia to sleep beside 
her husband and her little son, but she gave 
thanks that there was no need of benevolence 
though Mrs. Barrington had insisted she 
should supply any need. 

She had begged that she might be left at 
the school over Sunday, and Mrs. Crawford 
found herself so shaken by all the excitement 
that she assented the more readily. Zaidee 


240 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

was quite well again and laughed at herself 
for having been so easily alarmed. There 
had been no cases of illness in the town and 
the clairvoyant had taken her family to a 
city at some distance. 

“It really would be the part of wisdom to go 
to the city if you felt well enough,” Aunt Kate 
said to her sister-in-law. “Of course there will 
a good deal of talk, and it is but natural 
that our friends should desire to see the new 
daughter of the house. It is a most excellent 
thing that Dr. Kendricks has been mixed 
up with it all and can vouch for the truth. 
And the child might get some training to fit 
her for her new position.” 

“Mrs. Barrington has had her in training 
for some time, and from the very first was 
attracted by her natural grace and dignity; 
and her strength of character,” was the 
reply, “and her father found resemblances 
to me in the first interview!” 

“But the years before would naturally 
leave some impress. Mrs. Boyd, it seems, had 
not much education, and they must have 
lived in the commoner streets with all kinds 
of people. I feel something as brother does, 
that I can hardly forgive her for robbing the 


A Mother’s Love 


241 

child of her natural birthright and subjecting 
her to plebian surroundings. 

Mrs. Crawford winced and flushed a little. 
Her last remembrance of the smiling, cooing 
baby, bright eyed and full of health and sweet- 
ness, never f adedfromher mind, andshe fancied 
now she should have the same instinctive 
impressions that had puzzled Mrs. Barring- 
ton. Aunt Kate might be rather captious at 
first, but she could pardon it and understand 
it as well, for she had been a most devoted 
mother to Zaidee. 

Then, too, school would begin so soon and 
all these little breaks would bring about 
the finer claims of relationship. 

No one went to church on Sunday. Mrs. 
Crawford was not quite up to the mark, and 
Aunt Kate declared she could not face the 
curious eyes or answer a question. The Major 
longed to go over to Mrs. Barrington’s but 
some feeling of delicacy restrained him. 

Lilian had come home from the lonely 
burial like one in a strange dream. The 
brief illness, the excitement of the confession, 
the quiet passing out of existence had trans- 
pired so rapidly that she could hardly make 
it real. She almost expected to find Mrs. 


242 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

Boyd lying there on the bed when she entered 
the room. She felt that Mrs. Boyd had never 
taken root at Mount Morris; she smiled 
sadly thinking of Mrs. Dane’s suspicions that 
there was some secret between them, that she, 
Lilian, was afraid would come to light. But 
she had never in her wildest moments dreamed 
of the truth. Mrs. Boyd had all the limitation 
of a commonplace nature, sweet, devoted, 
with no lofty aspirations. The refinements of 
Barrington House wore upon her. She did 
try, for Lilian’s sake, to adapt herself to some 
of them but the effort was plainly visible to 
practiced eyes. If she had lived— but then 
the confession would hardly have been made. 
For, with all the unlikeness, Lilian had never 
suspected the truth. 

Oh, why had not God given this poor 
starved life its rightful surroundings? If 
Mrs. Boyd had lived! If there had been a 
number of merry, satisfied children going 
cheerfully to work in shops and factories 
when school days were over, having lovers, 
marrying and repeating their mother’s life! 
For the world was full of ordinary happy peo- 
ple with no high ideals. Was there something 
in heredity? 


A Mother’s Love 


243 


No, she could not have been content with 
that destiny. She must have worked and 
striven for a higher round, for some intellect- 
ual advancement. Yet, how many of these 
girls at school really cared for it with all 
their advantages? It was not mere money 
that inspired one, and she almost wished she 
were not going in that upper atmosphere. 


CHAPTER XIV 


GOING OUT OF THE OLD LIFE 

Lilian had seen very little of her friend, 
Miss Trenham, through the week, though 
every day she had been the recipient of a note 
of sympathy and affection. She came in on 
Saturday afternoon. 

“My dear girl,” she began, “so many un- 
usual events have happened to you that one 
must needs use both congratulations and con- 
dolences. I saw the newspaper account and 
it seems like the finger of Providence that 
you should have been directed hither and to 
the arms of your real parents. Mrs. Boyd 
looked very poorly the last time I saw her, a 
month or so ago. I suppose there is a great 
deal back of the account ” 

“I have wanted to see you so,” returned 
Lilian, “I thought I would come to the Chapel 
tomorrow morning. You are the only friend 
I have made outside of the school, but Mrs. 
Barrington has been so sweet and generous. 
She had planned to keep me here after mother 
was gone and educate me.” 


244 


Going Out of the Old Life 245 

The tears stood in Lilian’s eyes and her 
voice broke with emotion. 

“There is so much to talk over, and we 
have gone to our own home now. Mother and 
I have been very busy the last four days 
cleaning and putting things in order. We 
spent our Christmas at Mrs. Lane’s and had 
a really delightful time. We had planned some 
time ago to have you share it with us, and now 
can you not spare us Sunday, if you are not 
going ” 

“The change is to be made on Monday. Oh, 
Miss Trenham — I can hardly describe my 
feelings. I dread it and yet my own mother 
is an ideal mother. I hardly dare think of 
the happiness in store for me, but I shall go 
on here at school. I am glad of that. I could 
not give up my dear Mrs. Barrington.” 

“We want to hear all the story— your side,” 
smiling gravely. “So if you can come and 
dine with us on Sunday. Oh, there are so 
many explanations.” 

“I will see. Excuse me a few moments.” 
Lilian came back with a heartsome expression. 

“Yes, I can come. I wanted to go to the 
Chapel in the morning. I suppose some of 
my life, at least, will be changed ” 

“Yes, but it will be — yes, lovely and advan- 


246 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

tageous. I never thought Mrs. Boyd quite the 
right mother for you, if you will allow me to 
say it.” 

Lilian flushed. “But she loved me with her 
whole soul. She would have made any sacri- 
fice to advance me. All these years she has 
cared for me, worked for me and I should 
be an ingrate to forget it. If she had lived 
and this had not come, I was planning to work 
for her ” 

“I think you would, without a demur. You 
would have had an excellent friend in Mrs. 
Barrington, but it will be a much wider life, 
I am very glad for you. There are people 
for whom prosperity does very little. You will 
not be one of that kind. In spite of her mis- 
fortune your mother has always had a wide 
and lovely influence, and the home is said 
to be very attractive. I think all of Mount 
Morris rejoiced truly in her restoration to 
health, and you will have some of the best 
of her life. You will soon learn the sweet lesson 
of loving her.” 

“My heart went out to her the Sunday I 
saw her in church. She looked to me like a 
saint, and I did not know then, but I have 
felt bewildered since. And I have been so 
used to planning to do something for — for 


Going Out of the Old Life 247 

the one who has gone, that I feel kind of 
helpless, knowing I can do nothing for her.” 

Oh, yes, you can give her a daughter’s 
choicest love. I am quite sure you two will 
grow into finest accord, and two manly broth- 
ers and that lovely Zaidee! Oh, it will be a 
most absorbing life. You will be in the 
sphere just fitted for you. Perhaps God let 
it all happen that your character should 
be the more fully shaped by the experience. 
We will talk it over more, at length, tomorrow. 

Miss Trenham rose and kissed the young 
girl tenderly, knowing that tears were very 
near the surface. After she had gone Lilian 
gave way to them. She had not the easily 
adaptive nature to go in her new home and 
take the best at once, though it had been held 
out with such winning tenderness. The beauti- 
ful face of Zaidee instead of adding a radiance 
seemed to shadow the path. She could not 
explain it to herself; she would not think her 
sister would grudge her anything, but she felt in 
her inmost heart it would not be given gen- 
erously. She must win it by large patience. 

Sunday was a perfect winter day with 
a gorgeous sunshine and a crisp air that 
seemed to bring refreshment in every waft. 
The leafless trees were penciled against the 


248 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

blue sky like the lines of a fine engraving. 
The church bells rang out their reverent 
inspiration, they were harmoniously toned and 
there was no jangling. Lilian wondered a little 
— were her parents and the two children at 
home kneeling in the old church where the 
Crawfords had worshipped for a hundred 
years or more? Did they offer a little prayer 
for her? 

“The father and mother said it at home. 
He was all impatience for the day to pass. 

Oh, how delightful Mrs. Trenham’s warm 
welcome was, and little Claire clasped both 
slim arms about Lilian’s neck and kissed the 
cool rosy cheek over and over again. If her 
sister was little and fond like that!” 

“Its been such a long, long while since 
you were here. Of course you couldn’t come 
while we were away. It was very nice at Mrs. 
Lane’s; there were so many people to make 
merry. You can’t be truly merry alone by 
yourself, can you? It's like bells ringing. 
You can be happy thinking of many things, 
but not merry.” 

Lilian smiled. Yes, the conceit was true. 

Then she must inspect Claire’s Christmas 
gifts. Her own had been a pretty booklet 
that one of the girls had given her in a per- 


Going Out of the Old Life 249 

functory fashion that carried no real regard 
with it. She had been too full of anxiety to 
look up anything. 

“And that lady that came here once who 
wasn’t your real mother went away, didn’t 
she? And Edith said you had a real mother 
now and you were going to live with her and 
not stay at school all the time. I wish I could 
go to school. Edith said sometime she might 
have a school in our own house, and I might 
come and say lessons with other little girls. 
That will be so nice. I think that will be 
merry.” 

Then they were summoned to dinner, 
and the elders took the lead in the conversa- 
tion, expressing their surprise at the strange 
event they had seen in the paper, and as 
they lingered over the dessert Lilian told her 
own story that she had believed in devoutly 
until Mrs. Boyd had explained her adoption, 
hoping thereby Lilian might trace her parent- 
age — though Mrs. Boyd supposed only her 
father could be found. Mrs. Barrington had 
supplied the other side. 

“I suppose there is a certain kind of grati- 
fication in belonging to an old and respected 
family. Major Crawford’s family could go 
back even of their first settling in America, 


250 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

and the madam was a proud old Virginian 
with a fortune, but she wanted only one son, 
and she had three and one daughter. All 
her love and pride was in her first born who 
was indulged in every thing and led a gay 
life. The youngest died, Everard went to 
West Point and entered the regular army. 
Reginald took the best of life and became a 
capricious invalid, as pernurious as he had been 
wasteful before, and died about the time of the 
accident. The madam had been dead some 
years. So all of Crawford House and its belong- 
ings came to the Major, who had married 
one of the loveliest of girls. You have heard 
that part of the story from Mrs. Barrington, 
doubtless. She was one of the earlier scholars.” 

“Yes,” replied Lilian. “She admires her, 
beside loving her for the bravery with which, 
she bore the dreadful accident.” 

“I think when the word came, if prayers 
could have availed for the safety of the child, 
the whole town would have prayed, and to 
think that God should have saved you and 
restored you in this strange manner.” 

Edith glanced across the table. Lilian’s 
eyes were suffused with tears. 

Miss Crawford had looked after the house, 
as the mother spent much of the time in the 


Going Out of the Old Life 251 

city with Reginald. She was very fond of 
gayeties, and her sudden death was a great 
surprise for she seemed vigorous enough to 
round out the century. Miss Kate took charge 
of little Zay while her mother was on the 
journey and through those years spent in 
hospitals and sanitoriums. She has been most 
devoted, refusing several good offers of mar- 
riage, but I suppose Mrs. Barringotn has 
told you most of the family history.” 

“She is very fond of my mother and her 
girl life, her early married life as well, and 
she fancied at the very first that I resembled 
some one she had known.” 

“There is something in the poise of the head 
and the shape of your chest and shoulders, 
that is like her, and it won’t hurt you if I 
say she was an extremely handsome girl. 
Even Reginald admitted that.” 

“And I am not handsome,” Lilian said 
bravely, though with a little pang. It had 
never mattered to her before. Then she 
turned scarlet and added with an embarrassed 
laugh: “That sounds like what the girls call 
fishing for compliments. Zaidee will be the 
family beauty.” 

“And you have a voice, that with the proper 
training, may be very fine, indeed. I noticed 
it this morning in the hymn.” 


252 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“Oh, do you think so? I love to sing,” and 
her face was a-light with pleasure. “But it 
seems to me that it isn’t, well — neither alto 
nor soprano; I can’t keep it to a true sound.” 

It is a contralto and has some most expres- 
sive notes in it. Of course, you will be trained 
in music.” 

“Mrs. Barrington spoke of it in the next 
term. Some of the girls sing beautifully. I 
was to take up several new studies. Oh, 
there are so many splendid things to learn.” 

Her face was aglow with enthusiasm and 
gave promise of something finer than mere 
beauty. There had been a good deal of re- 
pression in her life since she had come to 
understand, in a measure, her own desires. 
She had held them back because she did 
not want to make Mrs. Boyd unhappy with 
the difference between them, when she saw 
that the elder woman was making any effort 
to indulge her fancies, and during these months 
at school had settled to a grave deportment, 
that she might better sustain her authority. 
The lack of spontaneity had puzzled Mrs. 
Barrington, when in some moments she caught 
the ardor and glow of an inward possibility. 

“I think you will be in the right place now,” 
remarked Edith with a smile. “One with a 


Going Out of the Old Life 253 

strong individuality at times surmounts ad- 
verse circumstances, but when there are so 
many events to hamper, one does lose courage 
and begins to question whether the effort 
and sacrifice will pay for the late reward.” 

“Oh, let me have Miss Lilian awhile,” 
besought Claire. “I want her to inspect my 
playhouse, while you and mother put away 
the dishes and things.” 

The playhouse was an old time cabinet with 
the doors taken off. One shelf, the highest, was 
full of curiosities, the next of books, the third 
left out and the dolls had it to themselves. 
There was a parlor in one end, a sleeping room 
in the other and three pretty dolls were in 
their chairs, ranged round a table, inspecting 
their Christmas gifts. 

“I wouldn't have any new dolls this time,” 
she began, with a touch of weariness in her 
voice. “For after all you can't make them real. 
I play school with them. I read them stories. 
I dress them and take them out riding, but 
I have to do the talking for them and some- 
times it gets so dull. There's too much make- 
believe. I shall be glad when summer comes 
and there won't be any bad boys next door. 
What do you suppose God did with them? 
They couldn't like heaven, you know, for there 


254 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

they have to be good all the time. And there 
are so many beautiful things in summer. 
The birds and the flowers and the trees 
waving about and the sky so full of myste- 
rious things. Great islands go sailing about 
and I wish I was on one of them. I get so 
tired, sometimes. I don’t suppose I’ll ever 
have any strong back and legs until I do get 
to heaven. But I’d like to go about in this 
world. I want a fairy godmother; that is it.” 

She gave a little laugh but there were tears 
in her eyes. 

“And you’ve found a fairy godmother, 
haven’t you? She is real, too, and lives in a 
beautiful big house and has a fairy child 
with golden curls. Oh, I wonder if she 
would have been glad to have you if you had 
been all bruised and broken and could never 
walk ” 

“Oh, don’t,” cried Lilian. Would they have 
been glad to have her? 

“Now, tell me about when you were a little 
girl and went to the stores to buy things for 
your mother and played ‘Ring around a 
rosy,’ and ‘Open the gate as high as the sky.’ ” 

The child’s voice and manner had changed 
like a flash. She liked Lilian’s make-believe 
stories in some moods; then she wanted real 


Going Out of the Old Life 255 

children and their doings, children who wiped 
dishes and swept floors while their mothers 
sewed or cared for a little baby in the cradle. 
And the petty disputes, the spending of a 
penny in candy and dividing it round. 

“They couldn’t all have pennies I suppose,” 
the child commented. 

“Their mothers were too poor,” laughed 
Lilian, thinking how seldom she had the pleas- 
ure of being a spendthrift. And if she were 
ever so rich what could she do for Claire? 

So they talked on and on until Edith came 
and said a young gentleman had called for 
Lilian — her brother. 

She went through to the parlor. Yes, it was 
Willard, bright and smiling as if glad to see 
her. 

“But how did you know I was here?” she 
asked. 

“Oh, I was at Mrs. Barrington’s, and we had 
a long talk about you. Then she directed me. 
It is getting towards night and our beautiful 
day shows symptons of coming rain.” 

Yes, it did. She had been so interested in 
Claire she had not noted the change. 

“So I think you had better allow me to 
escort you home, at least — oh, I wish it were 
to your real home. Think, what an evening 


256 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

we would have together, and I’ve only three 
days more. I have to start Wednesday 
evening and report on Thursday. Well, will 
you give me the pleasure?” 

He rose then, and bending over, kissed her. 

“Fd like you to meet my friends ” 

“Well — for a moment.” 

Mrs. Trenham and Edith came in. 

“Just say a quiet good-bye to Claire,” 
Edith whispered. “She is curiously upset about 
something.” 

The slim arms clung to Lilian. 

“Oh, will they let you come again? Edith 
said it would all be different and your new 
mother would want you, and — and — ” the 
child ended with a sob. 

•“Of course I shall come again, and again, 
little sweetheart,” kissing her. 

“Oh, what a pretty name! I lcve you.” 

“And you will soon see me again.” 

Willard stood with his hat in his hand in a 
waiting attitude, tall and manly, the fine face 
marked by a certain pride of birth, of culture, 
and the inherited grace of generations. The 
deep, outlooking eyes spoke of strength of 
character with a vein of tenderness, and the 
smiling mouth of affability. Yet it struck her 
that he did not seem to belong to the plain 


Going Out of the Old Life 257 

little parlor and it almost appeared as if he 
dwarfed the two women, a feeling she could 
not help resenting inwardly. 

They made their adieus in a friendly man- 
ner. Yes, the bright day had settled to the 
threatening of storm. The air was heavy and 
murky and cut with the promise of coming 
sleet. Willard drew the girl’s hand through 
his arm and they caught step. 

“I am glad you are going to be tall,” he 
said. “You have all the indications, the figure 
and the air. It runs in mother’s line as well 
as that of the Crawfords.” 

“I am taller than — than your sister,” 
rather hesitatingly. 

“Than your sister, as well. Oh, Marguerite, 
I hope you two will come to love each other 
dearly. Then there will be Vincent. We two 
boys have been such chums.” 

“It is strange to have a new name,” she 
said slowly, yet it was more to her fancy. 

“Do you like the old one better?” as if in a 
little doubt. 

“I didn’t like it very much, and I remember 
when I rebelled against Lily. It seemed such 
a sing-song king of a name. It’s sweet and 
pretty, too, Lilian Boyd gave it more char- 
acter.” 


258 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“You were named for Mother, but father 
did not want them quite alike. Her name was 
Margaret, and father used to say to her — 
‘Oh, fair Margaret, 

Oh, rare Margaret, 

Where got you the name of strength and 
beauty?’ ” 

Would she be dearer to her father on account 
of her name? 

“And Zaidee?” she said, in a suggestive tone. 

“Oh, I believe it was from a story that had 
been a great favorite with my mother, and 
it does just suit Zay. She is so light and airy 
and butterfly-like. Why, she seems about 
two years younger than you. I’m glad there 
isn’t any puzzle about telling you apart. 
She’s sweet and gay and loving and I suppose 
we’ve all spoiled her. Aunt Kate thinks she’s 
the loveliest thing in the world, and she has 
just devoted her life to the child. Aunt Kate 
is as good as gold, a stickler for some things 
and she’s always been splendid to mother. 
But she’s great on family. She can’t cry you 
down, because you belong to us.” 

“But I’ve been on the other side all my 
life, and — ” yes, she would say this — “Mrs. 
Boyd’s health was so broken that if it had not 
been for Mrs. Barrington’s kind offer I must 


Going Out of the Old Life 259 

have given up school and gone into a factory; 
and began to repay her for her kindly care of 
me.” 

She felt the curious sort of shrinking that 
passed over him. 

“But you didn't,” he said, decisively. “And 
if she had let you alone ” 

“But she was sure my mother was dead. 
Oh, nothing can ever make me forget her tender, 
devoted love. I cannot bear to have her 
blamed.” 

“But you must not dispute the matter with 
father. Let it all go since it has turned out 
so fortunately. I love you for your courage 
in standing by her, but there are many things 
you will learn — beliefs and usages of society. 
I don't mean simply money. We Crawfords 
have no vulgarity with a gold veneer; and, my 
dear girl, you may tell all your life with Mrs. 
Boyd over to mother, indeed, I think she will 
want to know it all; but — be careful about 
Aunt Kate — ” 

“And I was the caretaker’s daughter at 
Mrs. Barrington's. Oh, I have seensomesnob- 
bishness among what you call well-born girls. 
I am not a whit better or finer than I was a 
month ago, when I expected to work my way 
up to a good salary and strive earnestly for 


260 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


everything I had; and Mrs. Barrington would 
have helped me and been really proud of my 
success. ” 

“What a spirit you have!” 

“I shall never be a snob,” she flung out, 
proudly. 

“I do not intend to be one myself. Oh, 
don’t let us dispute these points. We all 
learn a good deal as we go along life. And, 
my dear, love us all as truly as you loved your 
foster mother. Oh, I wonder if you can ever 
understand your own mother’s joy at having 
you back — ” 

“Which she owes largely to Mrs. Boyd. 
Suppose she had died without this — this 
explanation?” 

“Even she understood that you did not 
belong in her walk of life. She saw the differ- 
ence and that made her feel she might have 
deprived you of something better, that she 
could not give you.” 

That was true enough. But just now she 
was Lilian Boyd and angry, though she could 
not satisfy herself that she had a perfect 
right to this unreasonableness. So she made 
no reply. 

“Oh, Marguerite, don’t be vexed with me. 
We shall not see each other for a long while, 


Going Out of the Old Life 261 

and I want to carry away with me the knowl- 
edge that you are very happy in your new 
home. You will have so many pleasures, in- 
terests; you will be loved; oh, you must be 
loving, as well. Let the past go as a strange 
dream.” 

“It can never be a dream to me,” she re- 
turned, decisively. “A thing you have lived 
through is stamped on your brain. I would not, 
if I could, dismiss it.” 

“Then I think that other love and care will 
make as deep an impression on your mind. 
Good-night, my dear sister, and best wishes for 
a happy tomorrow.” 

He kissed her fondly and turned away. 
She looked after him with a swelling heart. 

When the door was opened, she flew up to 
her room and girl fashion, went straight to 
the mirror. Generally she had very little 
color, now her cheeks bloomed like roses 
and her eyes were brilliant, something more, a 
light she had never seen in them; and, yes, her 
scarlet lips were shut, with dimples in the 
corners. Then she laughed, half in anger, 
half in a mood she had never known before, 
it was compounded of so many varieties. 

At Laconia, she had known several pretty 
school girls but they had golden hair and 


262 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


lovely blue eyes. It was odd, but she had 
always liked the word cerulean so much. 
And her eyes were almost black when any- 
thing moved her deeply. She had not thought 
much of beauty applied to herself. 

“I am glad we don’t look alike,” she 
mused. “I am willing to be plainer, and if I 
had some great gift — perhaps my voice might 
be cultivated. But I mean never to be ashamed 
of that past life. Oh, what would Willard say 
if he knew I had carried bundles back and 
forth and done errands for the dressmaker! 
Well I must keep that part locked in my own 
heart. Poor mamma Boyd, I’m glad you 
never understood the difference. I wish I had 
loved you better.” 

She bathed her face and took off her cloth 
dress, putting on one of some light material 
Mrs. Barrington had given her awhile 
before. Then she went down stairs just as 
the summons for dinner sounded. Mrs. 
Barrington met her in the hall with a smile. 

“Did you have a nice day? And did your 
brother find you?” 

“Yes, I enjoyed it very much. And — we 
walked back together. He leaves on Wednes- 
day night.” 

“And is very sorry to go. He is so interested 


Going Out of the Old Life 263 

in you. I wish he could remain longer, but 
he has the true sailor heart.” 

Lilian felt suddenly ashamed of her anger. 
Of course the whole family must look at it 
from that point of view, which was not hers. 
And having a brother was such a new thing to 
her. She had not been thrown much with 
boys. Her books had been her dearest com- 
panions. 

They all went to the drawing room after- 
ward and had a pleasant talk about the day 
and its duties. It softened Lilian’s heart 
strangely. After that some almost divine 
music, it seemed to her, and her thoughts were 
lifted above distracting reflections. 

The girls sang also. Several of them had 
very good voices but the best singers were 
away. Lilian was not afraid tonight, but let 
her voice swell out as she had in church this 
morning, and it surprised even herself. 

When they said good-night to each other 
Mr. Barrington led her to her own pretty 
sitting room. 

“I have hardly seen you today,” she 
began, “and though your change will not 
separate us altogether and is so immeasure- 
ably to your advantage, I want you to know 
that I had some plans for your future re- 


264 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

volving in my mind. I meant to have matters 
on a different basis when we began the new 
term. I did not think Mrs. Boyd would live 
through the winter, and as you know, I 
promised to care for you. You will make a 
fine linguist, and that is quite a gift for a 
woman. Then I have been interested in your 
voice. You sang with much power and beauty 
tonight. It is not the ordinary girlish voice.” 

“Miss Trenham said it was a contralto. 
I don’t know the difference between that and 
an alto. Of course, I sang in school at 
Laconia, and took quite a part in the closing 
exercises. But no one seemed to think — and 
I couldn’t manage it always — ” pausing 
lest she might say too much. 

It wants cultivation, and I believe has some 
fine probabilities. I have spoken to Mr. 
Reinhart about giving you private lessons 
in the new term.” 

“Oh, how good you are! I could almost 

wish ” and she clasped the hand nearest 

her. 

“No, don’t wish anything beyond what 
has happened. In spite of all the love and ten- 
derness lavished upon Mrs. Crawford, it was 
a continual regret that she should have taken 
you on that ill-fated journey. Charming as 


Going Out of the Old Life 265 

Zaidee is, she was always wondering what you 
would have been like. I think you will not 
disappoint her. You have been in a trying 
position for a girl of your ambition and 
temperament. I think you might have 
accepted some proffers without much hurt 
to your pride, but you know now you are on an 
equality with the best, and though many of 
these distinctions are much to be regretted, 
we cannot change the world. The change 
must be in ourselves, the grace and kindli- 
ness that shapes the character to finer and 
higher issues. But if you had been Mrs. 
Boyd’s daughter, I think there would have 
been a very promising future before you. I 
know you would have tried your utmost to 
succeeed in the two lines I have indicated; and 
now they will be accomplishments. Mrs. 
Crawford was a fine linguist and has bright- 
ened many an hour with intellectual pursuits. 
I am more than glad that you will be so 
companionable, but I cannot give up my in- 
terest in you, and I want you to feel that 
you will be, in part, a daughter to me.” 

Lilian bent her head down on Mrs. Barring- 
ton’s shoulder and cried softly, touched to the 
inmost heart by the affection she had hardly 
dreamed she had won. 


266 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


“There are no quite perfect lives even if 
there is a great deal of love,” the lady con- 
tinued. “We learn to limit out wants and ex- 
pectations by what others have to give us, and 
and it is by loving that we learn to live truly, 
though many shrines get despoiled of ideals 
as we go along in youth; but as we retrace 
our steps with years and experience we find 
God has put something better in them. I want 
you to come to me with any difficulty that 
can be confided outside of the family circle. 
But your mother must be your best friend; 
and now, dear, good-night.” 

Lilian returned the kiss, but her heart was 
too full for words. Tomorrow she would 
belong somewhere else, have new duties. Oh, 
could she take them up in the right spirit? 



Marguerite Went to Her Mother’s Arms 

(Chap. 15. Girls at Mt. Morris) 










































CHAPTER XV 


YOUR TRUE HOME 

Marguerite Crawford felt that she had been 
truly changed to some other personality when 
the carriage stopped under the broad porte 
cochere y and the driver opened the door with 
a bow for his master. There had been a 
slight fall of snow in the night that had 
wrapped every post and every tree in a mantle 
of jewels, and now the sun came out gor- 
geously, sending golden rays over the dappled 
sky of blue and white. 

Her father handed her out. Willard ran 
down the wide steps taking both her hands in 
his and kissing her fondly. A passion of regret 
flooded her. 

“Oh,” in a broken tone. “I was rude and 
ungenerous to you yesterday. I am sorry — ” 

“We will let that go, I knew you would 
regret it. I tried to look at it from your point 
of view, and I think you couldn’t resemble 
mother so much in looks and not in character.” 

Her father took her other arm. “Welcome 
home, my dear daughter,” he exclaimed. “All 
our years together will prove how glad we 
are to have you.” 


267 


268 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

The hall was like a beautiful larger room, 
with pictures and statuary and some elegant 
vases that would have dwarfed a smaller 
space. 

“This is my sister, Miss Crawford — Aunt 
Kate, to you always; who has been like a 
mother to my children — ” 

Aunt Kate bent over from her tallness and 
gave her a perfunctory kiss. Zay clasped both 
arms around her. 

“Oh, isn’t it queer,” with a musical ripple. 
“You certainly were a princess in disguise at 
school, and some of the girls said you were 
my double to tease me; but I don’t think we 
look very much alike; do you, papa?” 

She raised her radiant face with the pearly 
complexion, bewitching mouth and shining 
eyes. Marguerite looked rather pale and cold 
with the strangeness. 

Then they went up to the mother’s room, 
but Aunt Kate paused at the door and turned 
in another direction. Zay and Willard followed 
her. Marguerite went to her mother’s arms 
and for many seconds neither spoke. 

“What a strange, long waiting without any 
hope,” said the father at length. “I have often 
thought what Marguerite would be like if she 
had lived, and it always was impressed upon 


Your True Home 269 

me that she would be like her mother. If I 
could have wished it — ” 

The child raised her head. The dark lashes 
were beaded with tears. 

“I am sorry not to be as beautiful,” she 
said, with great humility. “I must make up 
any deficency by my love and devotion. Oh, 
it seems as if I had gone into some divine 
country when love filled the very atmosphere.” 

She held out her hand to her father who 
crushed it in a tender clasp. 

“But you are looking pale and weary, 
mother.” What a sweet word it was to say 
when it was true. 

“I have had a great deal of excitement these 
last few days, then the nurse had to go away 
to a more serious case, but I have tried to 
obey her injunctions,” smiling a little. “Prob- 
ably I shall never be very robust again, but 
nothing like this will try nerves. I think I 
have stood it exceedingly well,” glancing up 
at her husband. “I was very quiet all day 
yesterday, but I could not help dreaming 

of the years to come ” 

“I hope God will give me strength to make 
them happy. Oh, I want to give you the best 
of love and service and never pain you by 
any lack. For you are the mother I have longed 


270 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

for, who could capture and fill my desires. 
I would like to work for you ” 

“My dear, if you could be so devoted to the 
mother who was not your ideal and could not 
understand your thoughts and feelings, I 
shall try to come nearer and fill your whole 
heart, sympathize with your aspirations. I 
shall be glad to listen to them. Oh, my child, 
if you had been dull and coarse, but you 
simply could not have been, and this Mrs. 
Boyd must have had a certain refinement. I 
appreciate her more every day as I think it 
over.” 

“Oh, I thank you for that. It seems to me that 
I must have been willful at times ; but I wanted 
to take her out of that narrow round as well 
as myself. I felt so certain I could do it after 
we came to Mrs. Barrington’s. She under- 
stood my aims.” 

“You fell into good hands. Oh, how many 
times we shall talk this over, for I want to 
know all the incidents of these years we have 
been apart. When I have lived them with 
you, I shall feel more truly still that I am your 
mother. And now are you not a little curious 
about your new home?” 

Mrs. Crawford rose with her arm about the 
girl, and Marguerite glanced about the room. 


Your True Home 271 

It was exquisitely appointed. The second 
story rooms were ranged about an oval that 
gave a picturesque aspect. This and the 
sleeping rooms were toward the east; Mrs. 
Crawford had a passion for sunrise. On one 
side was Zay's room, adjoining it Aunt Kate's. 
Opposite, two guest rooms with bath and 
closets. It all seemed like some lovely de- 
scription she had read of in books. Her girl's 
heart and the refined tastes that had been her 
birthright seemed to leap for joy. Was she 
really to live amid all this loveliness! 

“We talked of your room on Friday. We 
couldn't take Zay away from Aunt Kate to 
put you two together. Willard had this room 
next to my sitting room, when he came home 
on vacations; sometimes, both boys; they are 
very fond of each other. So he proposed his 
should be yours and had everything taken out 
and the walls tinted afresh. But we couldn't 
order new furniture at once, so we brought 
this from one of the guest chambers. Some 
day you may choose for yourself. He took 
out the real boys' pictures except ‘Night 
and Morning' which are great favorites of 
his and his two bookcases. In one he has 
left all his poets; at heart, he is a rather ro- 
mantic fellow. And the other you must fill 
up to your liking. " 


272 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

1 'Oh, how could he be so kind to me, when — ” 
and Marguerite swallowed over a great sob. 

"He is so glad for me. And he thinks it 
is truly a gift of Providence that you should 
come, now that he is going away. Three 
years! Yet I have waited so many years 
for these great blessings; prayed for them, if 
one’s ardent wish is a prayer. ” 

' 'Did you ever pray for me? ” asked Mar- 
guerite in a low awed tone. 

' T prayed that if I died I should find you 
in that beautiful other country. And some- 
times I almost believed I should find you 
here. Invalids have curious fancies almost 
like visions. Perhaps God gave me the hope 
to enable me to endure the suffering and to 
be comparatively well again and to have 
you—” 

There was the summons to luncheon. 
The Major came for his wife, Willard met his 
sister in the hall. The dining room was 
perfectly appointed, with stands of flowers 
and ferns that made almost a garden of it. 
A few blossoms were laid beside each one’s 
plate. The butler seated them noiselessly. 
Aunt Kate was at the head of the table; she 
had kept the place so long that Mrs. 
Crawford would not hear of any change. 


Your True Home 


273 


She sat at the right of her husband, Margue- 
rite at the left; Jay and Willard were 
opposite. 

Marguerite was nervous, but she did just 
as the others. She felt that Aunt Kate's 
sharp eyes were upon her. Nearly always, 
she and her mother had taken their meals 
together; on Sunday, specially invited to dine 
with Mrs. Barrington and Miss Arran. Mrs. 
Boyd shrank from these occasions but the 
girl seemed guiding her with an almost im- 
perceptible grace. 

And although the luncheon came in courses 
it was not ornate. Marguerite began to feel 
quite at ease. There was some bright talk, 
but she did not join that, only now and then 
answering when her father appealed to her. 
But every moment she felt more at home. 

When they rose Willard took her arm. 

"You must examine your new home," 
he began, laughingly. "If you shouldn't 
like it—" 

"I'd deserve to be banished to Laconia 
and live in an atmosphere of soot and dust 
and all manner of noises," she answered, 
brightly. 

‘ This is the drawing room. In my grand- 
mother's time they used to have famous 


274 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

gatherings. Uncle Reginald was a great 
society man, and Aunt Kate quite a belle, 
but the Madam as she was called, spent 
her money lavishly. That was in her own 
right. Much of this furniture came from 
abroad. But I will do her the justice to say 
that she did not despise the old Crawford 
heirlooms that were handsome. Some of 
them are two centuries old, when people 
loved to carve and ornament and never com- 
pared their time with money. Uncle Regi- 
nald was very handsome in his early days and 
her favorite. Father went to West Point.” 

The room was certainly full of choice 
belongings. At the end, a full length portrait 
of Madame Crawford, painted by a famous 
French artist during one of her visits to Paris. 
The satin and velvet of her gown looked real 
and her laces were magnificently done. She 
was handsome and set them off beautifully. 
A string of sapphires encircled her throat 
and from it depended three pendants of dia- 
monds so skilfully done that in certain lights 
they emitted rays. A handsome woman, 
truly, but proud and haughty. 

“She only wanted one son so that the 
Crawford estate need not be divided. She 
was not in favor of large families, while father 


Your True Home 275 

would have been glad of at least half a dozen. 
So you may judge how delighted he is to have 
you. This is the library. There is a small 
fortune in the books. Great- grandfather 
Crawford was an eager collector. Father 
has been offered big prices for some of the 
rare editions. ” 

At the farther end of the library there were 
wide glass doors that opened into a conserva- 
tory, where the choicest flowers were kept, 
and curious ferns. Just beyond was the 
propagating room and where the tired-out 
bloomers were put for recuperation. 

Marguerite was speechless with admira- 
tion. She glanced up with a lovely smile 
and her dark eyes were lustrous, “Oh,” 
she murmured, with a long sigh/ T never saw 
anything so lovely! And that I should have 
come here to live — ” 

“Our next door neighbors have quite as 
much beauty, only it is rather more modern. 
But their conservatory is magnificent. Such 
a show of orchids is unusual. But Mount 
Morris is a rather aristocratic place, that is 
not wholly given over to fashion, but where 
people have lovely things to enjoy and are 
not trying to distance each other unless it is 
in the matter of choice flowers,” and he 


276 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

laughed. ‘ ‘Mother is so fond of them. ” 

She thought she could linger there all the 
remainder of the day, but presently Willard 
turned and they retraced their steps. Major 
Crawford stood in the hall. 

“Shall we go for our walk, Willard?” he 
asked. “I think mother would like Mar- 
guerite. ” 

She made a pretty inclination of the head 
and went up stairs feeling as if she was in 
fairyland. Mrs. Crawford lay on the lounge 
with a beautiful Persian wrap thrown over 
her. 

“Will you come and read to me?” she 
asked in a winsome tone. I want to hear 
your voice in poetry; Mrs. Barrington said 
you were a fine reader. I hope you love verse. 
The dainty little ones are a great pleasure to me, 
fugitive verses, as they are called. They have 
soothed many a painful hour.” 

“Are you very tired?” Marguerite bent 
over and kissed her. 

‘ ‘No, my dear, only this is part of my Ger- 
man doctors regimen. He sent a nurse home 
with me, and last week she went back to assist 
him with a peculiar case; and I have certain 
directions to follow, which I obey, implicitly. 
One is to take a rest after luncheon. Then, 


Your True Home 277 

I like to be read to. I am something of a 
spoiled child, you see.” 

( ‘I shall be glad to go on with the spoiling,” 
the girl said in a sweet, earnest tone. “I 
want to do all I can to make you happy — to 
make up for the years when you did not have 
me.” 

Marguerite’s eyes were lustrous with deep 
feeling. Her words went to the mother’s 
heart. 

‘ ‘Let me see — find ‘In Memoriam. ’ How 
many times in the last few days I have said 
over to myself: 

“ ‘If one should bring me this report 
That thou hads’t touched the land today, 

And I went down unto the quay, 

And found thee lying in the port, ” 

Marguerite took the beautifully bound 
volume in her hand and it gave her a thrill. 

“Some poems are adapted to this or that 
one’s voice, like songs. The Major reads 
Browning and that is saved especially for 
him. Willard loves Stevenson and Eugene 
Field’s children’s verses. Zaidee the light gay 
caroling things, and those arch, sweet Irish 
poems. But your voice sounded to me as if 
you loved Tennyson and Whittier.” 


278 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

‘ ‘I have not had the opportunity of reading 
Tennyson very much, but I thought the 
Christmas verses most beautiful. I hope I 
shall please you,” hesitatingly. 

Mrs. Crawford listened attentively. There 
was a depth and richness in the voice, an im- 
pressive, penetrating emotion that betrayed 
the harmony with the lines. And when she 
had finished that poem, she said in a low tone: 

“Shall I go on?” 

“Yes,” replied the mother. 

It was so beautiful that Marguerite forgot 
herself in the poet’s deep feeling — so human, 
so comforting — she could have read on until 
dusk, but Mrs. Crawford turned presently. 

‘ T must not tire you for I shall want you 
to read to me often. Do you sing?” I 
suppose you have not begun to play?” 

“No, Mrs. Barrington thought I would, 
in the new term. And she also thought my 
voice was — ” Marguerite paused, afraid of 
being too presuming. 

‘ Worth cultivating, was not that what she 
said? It is a contralto that can express pro- 
found depths of feeling. I had it years ago 
and your father was wild over it. He will 
be delighted. Zay’s voice is a light soprano. 
She plays very well. Yes, you must take up 
music. ” 


Your True Home 279 

‘ ‘Oh, mother, it doesn’t seem as if so many 
lovely things should come to me!” 

“Why not, when you have been in the 
desert all these years?” 

They clasped each other in a fond embrace. 
Oh, was it really true that she was a daughter 
of the house, that she had a right to the love 
and care? Could she ever give enough to 
repay? 

There was a stir down stairs and some merry 
voices. Major Crawford rejoined his wife 
presently. 

“The two Chichester girls to see if the 
children are sure to go to the Van Or dens, 
though I think their eagerness is most for 
Will, ” laughing. ‘ ‘His gay time will soon be 
over. Zay’s as well. Next week school will 
begin, and Marguerite must come under 
rules. The chief one is that there is no frol- 
licking until Friday evening, no holiday until 
Saturday. ” 

“Oh, I wish girls did not have to grow 
up so fast. Think how soon they will be 
sixteen,” bemoaned the mother. 

“I kept another birthday,” said Mar- 
guerite, ‘ ‘I am glad to go back even the few 
months. ” 

1 ‘You look as if you were beginning to feel at 


280 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


home,” said her father. “Oh, I hope we 
shall have many, many happy years together.” 

Marguerite’s heart was to full to reply. 
She looked at him with eyes like her mother’s, 
only they were a little deeper. 

Zay came flying up stairs. 

“Have I neglected you all the afternoon? 
We found a bad rent in my pretty frock and 
Aunt Kate had to change the skirt. Then I 
wanted to write some letters and the days are 
so short.” 

She kissed her mother rapturously; then 
went and sat on her father’s knee. 

“And the Chichesters want us to dinner 
tomorrow and a little dance afterward. It 
is Will’s last nibble at pleasure. Oh, why 
didn’t you make him choose some real busi- 
ness, you naughty father, so he could have 
stayed at home like a respectable citizen.” 

‘ ‘And had a sweetheart. Then what would 
you have done?” 

‘ ‘Looked up a sweetheart also. Oh, must 
he go Wednesday night?” 

“Think what a nice long holiday he has 
had!” 

“And think of three desolate years!” 

“They may be more desolate for us than 
for him. But it was his choice. ” 


Your True Home 281 


He entered the room just then. Had 
Marguerite found any special entertainment? 
What had Zay been doing? 

“Oh, writing letters. Marguerite be glad 
you have not forty dear friends who are cry- 
ing write, write all the time. ” 

No there was only one person she had 
written to. That was Sally Weeks at Laco- 
nia, and if Sally answered — well, she was 
lame on spelling, if she had a good generous 
heart. 

Zay and her aunt had done something 
beside writing and mending the party frock. 
They had discussed Marguerite. 

“Well, ” Aunt Kate had said with a long 
and rather unwilling accent, ‘ ‘she might have 
been worse. Her table manners are passable. 
I do suppose she has picked up a good deal at 
Mrs. Barrington’s. But she has a rather 
uncertain air, and we shall have to hunt her up 
some clothes. I must talk to your mother 
about it. ” 

‘ ‘Oh, dear, what a fuss there will be at school; 
I wish it was all over! I do wonder what 
Louie Howe will say! We had some talks — 
well, I could see how some of the girls felt. ” 

“I think that was very natural, I suppose 
she was presuming. ” 


282 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


“No, she wasn’t,” returned Zay with 
heightened color, “I want to be fair to her 
for she is my sister. I think I’d rather be an 
only daughter, but father will be just as fond 
of me, I am sure. I don’t know about the 
boys; but then Vincent won’t be home until 
next summer. I suppose we’ll all go to West 
Point. Of course, I couldn’t well have 
staid with mother this afternoon, so I don’t 
mind her being there — ” 

Zay you are very generous and unsuspecting. 
I should be sorry to have any influence under- 
mine your love. You have been all to your 
mother. ” 

“But I can’t be all now, I see that. Still 
I’ll have you, aunt Kate, and I won’t give 
up my place in her heart. Oh, trust me to 
keep that. ” 

Aunt Kate was anxious for her favorite 
and though she did not mean to be ungenerous, 
she could not so cordially rejoice. If the girl 
had been awkward or underbred, she could 
have taken her in hand with a good grace. 
But she was not likely to ask anything of her. 

Dinner was a rather more elaborate meal. 
It did seen odd to wait for some one to help 
to the smallest thing and she wondered 
how Mrs. Boyd would feel to have some one 


Your True Home 283 

standing at her back and anticipating her 
wishes before they were hardly formulated. 
But there was a certain dignity and pleasure 
in it with no jar or awkwardness. How did 
she come to take to it naturally? She did 
not seem to feel embarrassed, and how lovely 
the room looked with the lights and the still 
hanging Christmas greens. 

When Zaidee came in to wish her mother 
good-night, she did indeed look like a fairy 
being. Her frock was some soft, diaphanous 
stuff over a pale green slip, some of her curls 
were tied up high on her head and the ribbon 
and that of her sash matched. Three strings 
of pearl beads were about her white throat. 
Marguerite smiled to herself — Miss Nevins 
would call that very poor party attire. 

“Don’t stay late, Major Crawford said to 
his son. 

“Oh, we couldn’t,” declared Zay laughing. 
“It’s a school girls’ ‘Small and early.’ We 
begin at eight and the musicians depart at 
ten and we go to refreshments, and by eleven, 
“‘The lights are fled the music dead, 
And all of us departed.’” 

“That is just as it should be,” declared 
aunt Kate, “if you wish to keep roses and 
bright eyes for pleasure later on. ” 


284 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

Zay kissed her parents. Marguerite was 
sitting a little out of range, but Willard bent 
over and gave her a tender good-night. Then 
aunt Kate wrapped her niece in a lovely 
evening cloak trimmed with white fox and 
drew the hood up carefully, and the carriage 
soon whisked them to their destination. 

“Oh, how beautiful she looks !” Marguerite 
exclaimed; involuntarily. 

The mother smiled tenderly. 

“Zaidee has grown up with her beauty,” 
said the father. “I used to be afraid aunt 
Kate would spoil her and lead her to think 
beauty was the great thing to strive for, but 
she takes it as a matter of course. I hope 
she will be as indifferent about it when she 
is grown to womanhood, for nothing destroys 
the charm like that ultraconsciousness and 
the bid for admiration. So many things be- 
side beauty of feature go to make up the 
charm of an interesting woman. ” 

She must be interesting, Marguerite thought. 
There were so many delightful qualities one 
could cultivate. Mrs. Barrington was charm- 
ing, and Miss Arran had so many nice quiet 
ways, that she had insensibly copied; her low 
toned voice, her never seeming to hurry and 
yet going about any matter as if it was 


Your True Home 285 

the first thing to be done; her little orderly 
methods. She kept her mother’s room neat, 
she put the books back in their places; there 
was a cluster of autumn leaves in a vase, or a 
sprig of spruce or cedar that for a long while 
would put forth new leaves. She was very 
glad now that she had taken so much pains. 
Was she rather unpolished when they had first 
come from Laconia. But her circle there was 
so different. 

She told over only the best of it when her 
father asked about her life there. Wasn’t this 
what Willard had meant and she had resented? 
She would try not to be ashamed of the poor 
and plain living since it was the best Mrs. 
Boyd could give; but she knew even then she 
was longing and planning for something better. 

And a room like this for her very own! 
She liked it better because her very own 
brother had planned it for her. She looked 
over some of the books and above his name 
he had written — “For my Sister Marguerite.” 
And she was glad with a sense of mystery she 
did not care to fathom that her mother’s 
room was between her and Zaidee’s. 

What a long day it had been. Yet in a cer- 
tain sense happy, as happy as any strange 
beautiful place with a father and mother, — 


286 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


the latter she had not even dreamed of when 
she had thought a father might be found. 
Oh, she must be very grateful to God for send- 
ing her here where the tangle could be resolved 
in such an honorable manner and she must try 
to be worthy of all the love lavished upon 
her. The whole world broadened and she 
was part of the higher life. She was looking 
up to the hill tops where human endeavors 
must aspire even though there were failures, 
and to the west over beyond the land of 
eternal love and golden fruition. 


CHAPTER XVI 


OUT OF HER LOYALTY 

Mrs. Van Orden’s residence was large and 
handsome and a-light from top to bottom. 
There were three daughters from seventeen 
to thirteen. They had always been very 
friendly with the Crawfords, and this gather- 
ing was a good deal in honor of the young 
midshipman who was so soon to go on his 
first cruise of three years. 

The girls in the dressing room hovered about 
Zay. Wasn’t it wonderful that her sister 
had been found and living here all these 
months? Why it was just like a story!” 

“A princess in disguise,” laughed Zay. 
“That was what I called her.” 

‘ ‘And is she — does she look like you? ” 

“No, although we are twins you can easily 
tell us apart. She is taller; I think she will 
be like mother. Her hair is — well a sort of 
bronzy light brown, and her eyes are such a 
dark blue that you might mistake them for 
black, and she’s rather grave; not such a fly-a- 
way as I am. Of course, you know, we have 
287 


288 The Girls at Mt. Morris 


only had her one day though the others went 
over to Mrs. Barrington’s to see her. ” 

“And wasn’t she something there,” asked 
a girl. 

She was going to study for a teacher. Mrs. 
Barrington expected to keep her after her — 
well, I suppose we might call it a foster-mother, 
died. You see Mrs. Boyd thought the nurse 
mamma had was her real mother and she felt 
so sorry for the baby believing the true mother 
had been killed.” 

1 ‘Why it is a real romance. ” 

Zaidee meant to put it on a right founda- 
tion. At school once she had, in a way, stood 
up for her when Louie Howe tried to establish 
a distinction. So why shouldn’t she now, 
and always, even if she had not taken Mar- 
guerite cordially to her heart. No one outside 
should offer a slight. 

1 ‘And you believe it is all true — ” 

“Well, I think Dr. Kendricks and Mr. 
Ledwith and Mrs. Barrington couldn’t all 
be deceived. You see, this Mrs. Boyd never 
knew she belonged to us, but she thought 
there might be a father somewhere ; and the 
account of the accident tallied; there were 
only two babies on the train and one was 
killed. Mrs. Boyd knew the baby she took 


Out of Her Loyalty 289 

was not hers. So it is beyond any doubt. ” 

Zaidee Crawford looked brave and beauti- 
ful and her voice would have carried conviction 
anywhere, as well as disarming criticism. 

“Oh, you are a darling!” and two or three 
of the girls kissed her rapturously. 

‘ ‘I wouldn’t be without a sister for all the 
world,” declared Evelyn Van Orden, the 
middle one of the three girls. 

The musicians were tuning up. Several 
of the young gentlemen stood in the hall 
waiting. Mrs. Van Orden summoned them 
down. 

It was a gay young people’s party and 
numerous were the regrets that Willard Craw- 
ford was to be gone for so long. 

1 ‘But you’ll have Vincent all next summer, ” 
he said. “And there is no scarcity of other 
young fellows.” 

‘ ‘But they go away, as well. Unless they 
have a fortune they cannot afford to stay at 
home. ” 

‘ ‘And I have all mine to make, ” hereturned, 
with mock seriousness. 

It was true that at ten the music stopped, 
but there was some gay chatting over the 
refreshments and then the carriages began 
to come. They all expressed their pleasure 


290 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

to their hostess. Willard insisted that they 
should take home two or three of the girls, 
and they were nothing loth. 

1 'But, you see, Zay is quite certain she owns 
him, and she gave him about every other 
dance,” said Sophie Lawrence, as she stood 
on the steps with her sister. 

When they were alone Willard reached over 
and took his sister’s hand in a warm clasp. 

"Zay, I heard your fine defense for Mar- 
guerite. I was waiting at the head of the 
stairs. I suppose for awhile there will be 
some gossip and wondering, but there never 
can be any doubt of the truth. I think she is 
going to make a fine and admirable woman, 
and I hope you two will love each other as 
Vin and I always have.” 

"You can’t love anyone offhand. Such a 
love would not be worth having, and if she 
wins you away from me — ” 

"Oh, Zay, silly child! No one can take 
your place in the heart of one of us. ” 

"I’m not sure.” Zay was crying then. 
"You will be sure in the years to come. 
For mother’s sake let us be a united family. 
You can never be crowed out. And I think 
the more love one gives, the more one gets in 
return. ” 


Out of Her Loyalty 291 

The Major was waiting for them and gave 
them a tender good-night. 

They were all busy the next day in con- 
sultations. A package of clothing came over 
from Barrington house that Miss Arran had 
put in order for Marguerite, much of it being 
gifts from Mrs. Barrington, accompanied with 
the kindliest and most delicate note. Aunt 
Kate had fussed a little about the child not 
having anything fit to wear. 

“Mrs. Barrington is right, it is best not to 
make too great a change, though I think 
Marguerite’s tastes are very simple. Zay, 
I fancy, has had rather too much, but she is 
not as vain of her clothes as of her beauty, 
and she is a dear, sweet child. Aunt Kate, 
we all owe you so much, and we will see how 
Marguerite develops.” 

Miss Crawford was somewhat mollified, but 
she returned — 1 ‘Zay must not be crowded out 
of her mother’s heart.” 

“Oh, there is no fear of that. If we had 
the six we planned for I think none of them 
would complain. Mother love is elastic. 

Willard and Zay were much engrossed 
making farewell calls. He was very bright 
and hopeful, picturing the points of interest he 
should see and the experience he should gain. 


292 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

And there would be letters. Three years 
would pass rapidly. He stipulated that the 
girls should not be married until his return. 

“We have had such a nice long vacation 
with you,” said his mother, “and we must 
comfort ourselves with that ; and I may come 
over to some port with the girls if you are to 
stay long enough. I feel as if I was just 
beginning to live a new life. Think, there 
have been times when I hardly expected to 
see one of you again. Now I am full of hope. ” 

“My blessed mother!” 

He would write when he reached Wash- 
ington and tell them what the plans were. 
If they were not quite ready Zay and his father 
might come on for a few days’ visit. 

Zay kissed her mother and went to her 
room where she gave way to a violent fit of 
weeping. 

' T ought to go to your mother, ” said Aunt 
Kate. Major Crawford had gone to the 
station with his son. 

1 'Oh, no, stay with me, she will have Mar- 
guerite. Oh, if Willard never never should 
come back! So many accidents happen,” 
she sobbed. 

' 'Don’t let us think of that ; so many come 
home safely. Oh, my child, try to be a little 


Out of Her Loyalty 293 

tranquil. He is here in the country yet and 
will not go away for several days. Summon 
your fortitude for the sake of the others. ” 

“No one loves him as I do,” she moaned. 

“I love him dearly. You children have 
been like my own, I have had so much of the 
care of you.” 

‘ ‘But I love him so dearly, and if he should 
get weaned away! Why, I should be heart- 
broken!” 

“My dear!” Aunt Kate sat on the side of 
the bed, bathed her head with fragrant water 
and comforted her with endearing terms until 
she grew tranquil and finally fell asleep. 

Mrs. Crawford had seated herself on the 
couch and motioned Marguerite beside her. 

“My dear daughter,” she said, steadying 
her voice, ‘ ‘heaven only knows how glad I am 
to have you and we must comfort one another. 
I had dreaded Willard going, but God has 
been good to me and sent you just when I 
needed you most. We shall be very happy 
in each other’s society, I foresee. You will 
be my girl as Zay is Aunt Kate’s. Willard 
is so interested in you, and when it is a little 
pleasanter we will go driving together. I 
like the byways and the nooks and the wild 
flowers. Oh, do you think you could learn to 


294 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

ride? You would not be afraid! Father is 
so fond of it. Oh, the rides we used to have 
in our early life!” 

Marguerite’s eyes lighted with eager pleas- 
ure. ‘ ‘Oh, I should like it, ” she returned, 
earnestly. 

‘ ‘And he is so fond of it. It seems as if he 
had given up so many things for me. I used 
to go out to the Stations with him and live in 
the Forts. What magnificent gallops we have 
had. I don’t wonder the boys were imbued 
with the love of military life, their father was 
such an ardent soldier. We were very happy 
with our boys but we did want a daughter. 
I was so proud of the twins, perhaps too 
proud. Yet I do not think we can love these 
choice gifts of God too much, so long as we are 
grateful to the giver. Then there came all 
the sorrowful years. For a long while they 
thought I never would walk again. The 
Major resigned from the army and I know it 
was a sore cross to him. But we took much 
pleasure in educating our boys, and Zay was 
such a bright, winsome little thing. Her 
passion is dancing and being merry. She 
loves to go out driving but I think she is afraid 
of managing a horse. Her father tried to 
train her a little but she cried and begged off, 


Out of Her Loyalty 295 

and the boys have been away so much. Oh, 
it will give him the greatest pleasure. ” 

1 ‘And I want to devote my life to your happi- 
ness to make up for the years when you did not 
have me. You must train me in your ways, 
you must tell me what he likes best. ” 

“Oh, my darling!” 

Major Crawford found them in a close 
embrace when he returned. 

1 ‘Oh, ” the wife began, eagerly, ‘ ‘we have 
been planning some pleasures so we shall not 
feel Willard’s loss too keenly. Youmustteach 
Marguerite to ride and to play chess and we 
will read the old poets. Some of them are so 
charming. Why it will seem as if we had 
gone in an enchanted country — the Forest 
of Arden.” 

How bright and smiling she was ! He kissed 
her and then sat down on the other side of 
Marguerite. He had been afraid he would 
find her in sore need of comfort. 

Aunt Kate came in presently. 

‘ ‘Zaidee has fallen asleep, ” she said. ‘ ‘She 
was completely unnerved by the parting. 
Her feelings are so strong, her love has such 
depths to it, so I have been soothing her to 
comparative tranquility. You will not miss 
this one good-night.” 


296 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

‘ ‘We shall all miss the boy very much, and 
he will return to us a man of full stature. I 
think we can trust him to return as true and 
honorable as when he went away. Yes, he 
and Zaidee have been together a great deal 
this last six months and she will miss him 
sorely. ” 

‘ ‘But there will be school and new interests/’ 
said the mother. “We must see Mrs. Bar- 
rington and make some future arrangements. 
Why in May the girls will be sixteen!” 

“Sixteen!” re-echoed their father. “Let 
us have them set back. ” 

‘ ‘Oh no, ” cried Marguerite, ‘ ‘rather let us 
stay just here. I should like to make two 
days of every one. I am afraid no day will 
be long enough.” 

Miss Crawford turned away. The others 
resumed their talk and she heard their joyous 
voices. Poor Zay! Poor Willard!” she said, 
under her breath. 

When she went to her room and it was quite 
late the gas was lighted, her bed been put 
in the most inviting order and there lay a 
pretty nightdress with its garniture. She 
colored with a thrill of pleasure. Then she 
turned and surveyed herself in the glass. 
Her eyes had a luminous softness, there was 


Out of Her Loyalty 297 

a faint pink in her cheeks and her lips had lost 
their compression, were absolutely shaped 
into a smile. If she could grow prettier! 
But her parents loved her. She knew that 
and it filled her with joy. 

Zaidee was bright as usual the next morn- 
ing and hovered about her father in a tender 
manner. ‘ ‘By this time Willard was in Wash- 
ington. When would he know his time of 
sailing?” 

‘ ‘I believe the vessel is at Fortress Monroe ; 
we will hear soon.” 

“Aunt Kate we ought to make some calls 
today and Margie Putnam has a tea this after- 
noon, just an informal little affair. Her cousin 
has come from Providence, I believe, and will 
try to get in at Mrs. Barrington’s. I should 
think there would be lovely schools in Provi- 
dence. ” 

“I want to go over to Mrs. Barrington’s 
this morning,” said Mrs. Crawford, “about 
ten; will you order the carriage?” to her hus- 
band. 

Then she asked the maid to unpack a box 
that they had brought home on their last 
journey. There were many beautiful mate- 
rials. They did seem extravagant at the time, 
but she was rather glad now. 


298 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“Marguerite, I wonder if you could wear 
these things. This green is lovely. ” It was 
a cloth that had the sheen of satin. She held 
it up to the young girl. Why, yes — it would 
make a handsome winter suit trimmed 
with fur. And this sort of lavender gray — 
it is a favorite color of mine. “We will see 
the dressmaker this morning. ” 

Marguerite flushed and glancing up smiled 
gratefully, though she could not trust her 
voice to speak. 

‘ ‘Oh, it will be delightful for me to have a 
young girl to dress — a daughter. Perhaps, I 
shall be a foolish mother, but Aunt Kate has 
always looked after Zay’s attire. I believe 
I was not much interested in clothes, but now I 
shall be and I have so many pretty things I 
shall never wear again. Zay is overburdened 
now,” laughing softly, “and Aunt Kate will 
dower her. Oh, Marguerite, I am so glad 
to have you! It has given a new impetus to 
my life,” and she held the girl to her heart. 

It was a bright morning, cold, but with no 
perceptible wind. The trees were outlined 
against the blue sky, where there was scarcely 
a drift of white floating about. The ever- 
green about the lawns made it look less like 
winter and here and there a conservatory 


Out of Her Loyalty 299 

showed brilliant bloom. How beautiful the 
town was even in the winter. 

There were two streets given over to busi- 
ness in one of which a trolley line was allowed, 
largely for the convenience of the outlying 
settlements. There really were some very 
nice stores. There was a fine music hall used 
for lectures and now and then a play found 
its way thither. Some seven miles distant 
was a thriving city. 

The carriage paused at a fine residence 
with just a nameplate on the door. They 
were ushered into a handsome parlor and in 
a few moments Madam came sweeping down 
the broad stairway, her silken gown making a 
soft swish on the polished floor. She was 
surprised and delighted to see Mrs. Crawford, 
who introduced her daughter and soon stated 
her errand. The green was to be a walking 
suit for Miss Marguerite and trimmed with 
whatever fur would be considered most appro- 
priate. The lavender would be a sort of 
dinner and general-utility dress and orna- 
mented with some beautiful Persian em- 
broidery that had been brought from abroad; 
one of Aunt Kate’s bargains. 

When it was all settled the forewoman was 
called, who ushered Marguerite upstairs into 


300 The Girls at Mt. Marris 

the fitting room where two tall mirrors gave 
the place twice the size. There were measure- 
ments and discussions but the fitter was 
horrified to learn that the young girl had never 
worn corsets. 

1 ‘Still she has a fine figure. You will make 
a larger woman than your sister, indeed, 
you do favor your mother. It is like a miracle 
to see Mrs. Crawford going about without 
any aid. She had such a splendid physique 
until that horrible accident. How overjoyed 
they must feel that you escaped. ” 

Marguerite quietly admitted that and pres- 
ently she was returned to her mother. 

“We might have sent for them, but I 
thought you wouldn’t mind, and I should 
have had to explain it all to Aunt Kate. Why, 
I feel as if I had run away on some secret 
expedition. Do I look guilty?” and she 
laughed softly. “You are to be my girl you 
know. Oh, I hope you wont think me exigent? 
I can’t endure fussiness, and I do believe that 
I have given in to Zay’s desires when I did not 
think them wise or necessary, rather than 
have any discussion. But Aunt Kate loves 
her so and she has been so good to me. ” 

Mrs. Barrington was delighted to see them. 
While the two ladies discussed studies and 


Out of Her Loyalty 301 

future plans, Marguerite ran through to the 
study where the left-over scholars were ar- 
ranging a little play they were to amuse them- 
selves with that afternoon. But Miss Nevins 
uttered a shriek of delight and nearly toppled 
her over in an exuberant embrace. 

“Oh, my dear Miss Boyd — Crawford, I 
mean, will we get used to the new name! Isn’t 
it all splendid! And to be so rich and to be- 
long to a first class family! It does make a 
difference. I’ve been writing to mamma all 
about it. It ought to be put in a book. But I 
liked you so from the very first, and you were 
so good to me. But the girls kept hectoring 
me and saying mamma wouldn’t approve. 
She’s very particular about the friends I make, 
because I shall go in the best society when I 
get introduced. I think papa will give me a 
ball. It is real stylish to have it at Sherry’s. 
And I want you and your sister; only you 
ought to look more alike, being twins; I’m 
just as glad as if something grand had hap- 
pened to me. And your father ought to 
give you a splendid party at Crawford 
House. I suppose it is very fine and all 
that. ” 

Her face was in a glow and her dull brown 
eyes had a glint in them that improved them 
very much. 


302 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

“I am just the same as when I was Lilian 
Boyd,” she began. But Alice interrupted — 
‘ ‘Oh, no, you’re not, and you will soon find it 
out. It’s all right, too. Rich people do 
have more chances, and seeing the world and 
mixing with high up style gives you an air. 
Why you couldn’t imagine that plain little 
Mrs. Boyd with her meek air going to dinners 
and balls, and she never could have earned 
money enough to dress any. That’s what 
tells. And when you can’t go into society 
or meet nice people but just stay at home and 
work or teach — what fun is there in life? 
Why I’d rather be dead.” 

“I should want to be alive even if I were 
Lilian Boyd. I think it is a grand world, and 
there is so much happening all the time. And 
I don’t care so much about being rich — ” 

‘ ‘But you will and your mother is so lovely. 
Major Crawford looks rather stem and that 
handsome young man — what a pity he’s to 
follow the sea, unless he gets to be an Admiral, 
and then he’ll have to be quite old. I’d 
rather be at West Point. Oh, I wish I had 
a brother. ” 

Marguerite looked pityingly at the silly 
girl. Then she asked about the play. Miss 
Nevins had been to the theatre and wanted 


Out of Her Loyalty 303 

to remodel the simple little story, and there 
had been some warm arguments. 

“I must go and see Miss Arran. ” There 
was no use disputing proprieties with the over- 
wise girl. But she hoped they had all begun a 
Happy New Year. 

Alice followed her into the hall. “You are 
coming back to school and now we can be real 
good friends. Oh, I just love you and I'm so 
glad all this happened to you. ” Before Mar- 
guerite could evade it she had given her a 
rapturous kiss which the girl rubbed off an 
instant later. 

Miss Arran was truly glad to see her and 
they exchanged warm wishes. 

“We have a new caretaker, quite a young 
woman, but I do not take a real fancy to her. 
Your mother, oh, excuse me saying that — was 
so neat and particular and did every thing 
so well. ” 

Marguerite smiled. She had often added 
touches of order and neatness, and kept the 
room tidy with a taste that never appealed to 
Mrs. Boyd. Though, perhaps, it had in her 
earlier years. The young girl could under- 
stand now, how gradually she had failed. 

And there was Mrs. Dane with her cordial 
grasp and the heartiness of her greeting. 


304 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

Whatever distrust she might have had had 
vanished. 

‘ 'We are so glad to have you back again, ” 
she exclaimed, and such a bright future opening 
before you, though I must have given you the 
same respect if you had been here teaching. 
Mrs. Barrington doesn’t often take such a 
fancy to anyone. She did from the very first, 
and though you’ll find the money and position 
will make a difference in some quarters, it 
never would have with her.” 

"Oh, I am sure of that,” responded the 
girl earnestly. 

The two ladies had settled about the studies 
and the music and Mrs. Barrington explained 
a little plan. All the girls would be in by 
Saturday and she thought it would be well 
to introduce Marguerite in her new circum- 
stances. She would, therefore, give a little 
dinner at which the sisters should be the 
guests of honor. That would prevent any 
gossip or comment and give Marguerite that 
home feeling with the other students. Mrs. 
Crawford assented cordially. 

"And now, we must go or we will be late 
for lunch. I can never thank you enough for 
your kindly interest in my dear girl when she 
came to you an unknown stranger and if 


Out of Her Loyalty 305 

anything should happen to me, for I have 
wondered if one could be so happy and enjoy 
it for long, I should want you always to be 
her friend. ” 

‘ ‘You may depend upon that, but the good 
days are only the outgrowth of patiently 
borne bad ones; beauty for ashes. ” 

Mrs. Crawford was very bright at luncheon. 
She announced to Zaidee Mrs. Barrington’s 
plan for the informal dinner. 

“Why, I think it excellent,” declared 
Zaidee. “You see, we should both be ques- 
tioned. It’s awfully tiresome to have to tell 
an occurrence over and over and Mrs. Bar- 
ington would carry conviction. I hope you 
won’t mind, Marguerite. See what it is to 
be a heroine.” 

‘ ‘I was nearly killed with Miss Nevins and 
wouldn’t it be a good thing to refer curious 
people to Mrs. Barrington?” 

Marguerite glanced up with a half smile. 

‘ ‘We have to pay the penalty for any un- 
usual happenings, ” said their father. 1 ‘I think 
I should feel interested if this had occurred 
in the home of a neighbor. So we will not set 
it down to idle curiosity. Even I had to be 
convinced that it was not mere hearsay. ” 

As they were leaving the room Miss Craw- 


306 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

ford said in a low tone, "Margaret — don’t 
you need some shopping or planning done?” 

"Thank you, Kate. You have been a true 
sister all these years. I took Marguerite and 
some material to Madame Blauvelt this morn- 
ing. She thought that green cloth would 
make a very becoming suit and the lavender 
grey. They will not go out much this winter 
now that the holidays are over, and they are too 
young. ” 

Miss Crawford only said, ‘ ‘Oh, very well. ” 

The mother had a half guilty feeling as if 
she had unduly asserted herself, yet she was 
inexpressibly happy. 

There were calls in the afternoon and 
Zaidee sat alone in her room leaning her chin 
on her hand and glancing out of the window. 

In a way she had been the family heroine. 

The twin sister who might have been so 
dear had been wrenched out of her life. She 
had thought of her, dreamed of her, although 
she had been well content to fill the place of 
an only daughter with this faint shadow of 
sorrow hanging over her; and suddenly, she 
had been uprooted, flung aside as it were, 
and another had stepped into her place. She 
did not like it. If it had been from the be- 
ginning! If it had come about some other 


Out of Her Loyalty 307 

way. If someone had sent from that Western 
town. Would the girls who had held them- 
selves above the Boyd connection feel morti- 
fied at many of the comments they had made? 
She was glad she had held up some supposititious 
cases; though, truth to tell, Zaidee felt too 
secure of her own standing to need any prop- 
ping, and there was a strand of independence 
in her character, but she had been first all her 
life and in a curious fashion she would lose 
that eminence. 

Of course, in time she would love Mar- 
guerite. One could not do it in a moment. 
That was the salve she was applying to her 
conscience. When they had known each 
other for months, learned and respected each 
others’ peculiarities, love would come. She 
had not felt inclined to fling herself in Lilian 
Boyd’s arms, and she had almost doubted at 
first. So had Aunt Kate. 

Zaidee would have scouted the thought of 
jealousy, and if it had been suggested would 
have denied it vehemently. Neither was she 
given to analysis. Her temperament was 
rather volatile and pleasure loving. The 
things that suited her she enjoyed, the others 
she passed by indifferently. She did like 
to be made much of, and she thought she was 


308 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

worthy of preference. She had beauty, good 
nature and a heedless sort of generosity and 
wealth. In a certain way she saw the benefit 
of that quite as much as Alice Nevins though 
she did not esteem it the chief good. 

Major Crawford came in from his walk 
just at dusk. 

“Letters!” holding it up. “A thick packet 
— one for each of us, I think. ” 

Zaidee had been waiting for Aunt Kate 
to come up stairs, as the last caller had 
gone. She was lonely after this long com- 
muning with herself. 

If there is not one for me I shall go to bed 
and cry,” she declared as she followed to her 
mother’s room. Aunt Kate had been detailing 
some of the pleasant neighborhood news. 

‘ ‘Yes — each one was directed. Willard had 
not omitted one member of the household. 
He was in Washington and had come just in 
time for some of the grand occasions. Sat- 
urday he was to board his vessel and by 
Wednesday, at the farthest, they were to start 
on their three years’ pilgrimage. But to 
each one some tenderness exclusively for her- 
self. To Zay he recalled many of their joys 
during the summer time, little events they 
were glad to hold together and the blessed 
news of their mother. 


Out of Her Loyalty 309 

‘ There will never be anything quite like 
that,” she thought to herself. “And there 
is no one else — Aunt Kate never felt afraid to 
trust us, and of course, he will grow older, 
find a sweetheart perhaps, and I may have 
a lover; girls of nineteen do. Up to this time 
he has cared the most for me. 

Marguerite turned to the window though 
the gas had been lighted. There was no past 
to refer to, only the sweet, tender hopes of the 
future. It touched her deeply. No one had 
ever written her such a letter before. And that 
he was her brother and would write again and 
again. She must strive to deserve this love 
and confidence, grow up into the fine char- 
acter he had pictured for her. Vincent had 
sent her fond messages in his mother’s letter 
but she did not know him and he could not 
come so near. 

Zay read some of hers aloud, but she won- 
dered a little what he could find to say so 
much of to Marguerite. She had not the 
courage to show it to her mother, even, it 
seemed so sacred to her. Oh, could she reach 
the heights he had indicated? 

Marguerite did shrink from the ordeal of 
Saturday evening. She had kept rigorously 
to the position of Mrs. Boyd’s daughter but 


310 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

how would she meet these girls who had held 
aloof in her poverty and proffered cordiality 
now, because she was Major Crawford’s 
daughter! She could not get over a little 
hurt feeling, for surely she was the same per- 
son. She almost despised the money and the 
position. But there was the grand and ten- 
der love. Ah, that was worth a great deal. 

By Saturday noon all the girls had come in. 
There were merry greetings, recapitulations 
of the holiday times and the gifts they had 
received and some of them heard for the first 
time the change in Lilian Boyd’s life. 

“1 always liked her,” said Isabel Gordon, 
“only you couldn’t get on with her. She 
allowed you to come so far and no farther. 
And she was a most excellent student and very 
ready to help anyone. I don’t think you 
girls need ever felt afraid of her presuming 
and now I suppose you will all go down to 
her. ” 

Miss Gordon’s voice had a touch of indig- 
nation. 

“I shall pay her the respect due her stand- 
ing, of course,” said another, “I was always 
polite to her in the classes. 

‘ ‘ And, Louie Howe, you know you per- 
suaded that Nevins’ girl to write that hateful 


Out of Her Loyalty 3 1 1 

letter to her, when she had been so good and 
taken so much pains with her. ” 

“I didn’t persuade , ” rejoinedLouie, angrily. 
“You said you were sure Mrs. Nevins 
wouldn’t approve of the friendship — yes I 
think you did suggest the letter and Miss 
Nevins slipped back woefully. How many 
of us would have taken her into grace again? 
And I know Mrs. Barrington held Miss Boyd 
in high esteem. ” 

' 'She thought she would make a fine teacher ; 
so, of course, she pushed her along. ” 

“Oh, Louie!” in deprecating tones. 

“Well, you may all go down to her. I 
shan’t object. She can’t hold a candle to 
Zaidee. ” 

“Oh, Zay is a darling!” 

“I wonder how she takes it. She has al- 
ways been a little Queen and her aunt thinks 
the sun rises and sets in her and sweeps the 
very stars out of sight; and Zay isn’t a bit puffed 
up or arrogant, but she does want people to 
love and admire her. And now that her mother 
has recovered sufficiently to go into society 
again I am afraid Zay won’t like to share her. ” 
' 'Miss Marguerite isn’t handsome and Zay 
is a beauty, and the least vain of any pretty 
girl that I ever met. ” 


312 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

1 ‘It’s funny for twins not to look more alike, 
but there’s something noble about her, and 
she has the same lovely complexion. What 
she needs is more color.” 

The carriage drove around ; Mrs. Barrington 
welcomed them both warmly. Marguerite 
was in a light evening dress that made her 
look much younger and her hair had been be- 
comingly arranged by the maid. All the 
girls were summoned to the drawing room and 
Mrs. Barrington entered with her most de- 
lightful air. 

“Young ladies,” she began, “I have a new 
scholar to introduce to your circle, Miss 
Marguerite Crawford, the lost child of Major 
and Mrs. Crawford, supposed to have been 
killed in the sad accident fifteen years ago. 
Mrs. Boyd’s baby was killed and she, mistaking 
the nurse who was killed for the mother, out 
of pity, took the child. Her health was not 
very good when she came here and it failed 
gradually. Then she thought she ought to 
take some steps that the child might be able 
to trace her relatives, if she had any. You may 
have all heard the story, which has been 
proved beyond a doubt, and she has found 
the most cordial welcome in her own family. 
I hope you will all rejoice with her, though I 


Out of Her Loyalty 313 

had resolved if no claimant were found, to 
keep her here as my own. I hope you will unite 
with me in giving her the warmest of welcomes 
in your circle as ambitious students. I thought 
you might like to meet her in her new relation 
to us before the real work of next week began.” 

There was a moment’s silence, then Miss 
Gordon stepped forward and clasped her 
hand. 

‘ T think we all rejoice in your good fortune; 
also, that we are not to lose you. It is a 
beautiful and happy romance and Mrs. Bar- 
rington’s plans for you would have been fully 
deserved if something so much more delight- 
ful had not happened. Believe me, I shall 
always be glad to have known you.” 

There was an instant confusion of voices 
and a throng gathering about her. Zaidee 
stood beside her looking proud and happy as 
congratulations poured in upon her. The 
cordial acceptance did touch her. She was 
glad to begin her new life by being friendly 
with them all. 

Presently they went out to the dining room 
and it was quite a festive occasion. Zaidee 
was bright and charming, and endeared her- 
self more than ever to the girls. No one 
should say she had a grudging thought. Phil- 


314 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

lipa Rosewald proposed drinking toasts to 
her, even if it was only in water, and much 
girlish wit and laughter went round. 

‘ f Why it’s been a delightful party, ” several 
of them declared. “Mrs. Barrington, how 
can we thank you?” 

“By being cordial and helpful with each 
other and holding fast to the divine truths that 
shape character and will make you admirable 
women capable of filling the best and highest 
positions in life; and, remember, there is noth- 
ing more satisfactory in the world than true 
and generous friendship.” 

Phillipa rescued Zay from the overwhelming 
kissing and hugs. 

‘ ‘Oh, my dear, isn’t it all wonderful? Why 
you didn’t write half of it to me! And I laughed 
over your little scare of scarlet fever. Louie 
had a mental attack, I think. She went al- 
most crazy, but I fancy she won’t blow on us. 
It was a silly thing to do, but see here — ” and 
she twisted a ring around her finger. A dia- 
mond, sure enough, but I can’t be engaged 
until I’ve graduated. It’s just awful, and 
only a little stolen bit in his sister’s letters 
to me. But he thinks he’ll plan a way to see 
me at Easter, even if he has to come here. 
So the old woman didn’t miss it there! And 


Out of Her Loyalty 3 1 5 

I do wonder how you’ll like a sister? You 
spoiled little midget!” 

' 'Oh, we shan’t quarrel,” with a gay laugh. 

The carriage had come for them and there 
were enough farewells to send them off to 
Europe. 

"Zay does take it beautifully,” said a 
group of girls, ' 'lucky that Miss Nevins was 
all bunged up with a bad toothache and 
swelled face. She’d counted so much on 
being in at the feast.” 

The three elders were sitting up for them. 

"We’ve just had a gay old time and Rita 
was the star of the goodly company,” ex- 
claimed Zaidee in her merriest tone. "We 
drank healths enough to sink a ship and Mrs. 
Barrington was sweetness itself. I’m tired 
and sleepy, so you won’t mind if I run off 
to bed. And Monday the treadmill of school 
begins. Only one day of grace!” 

She kissed her parents, then her sister. 
Was she beginning to love her? She had been 
so radiantly sweet tonight. 

"You did enjoy it?” and the Major pulled 
Marguerite down on his knee. 

' 'Oh, yes, only I didn’t like being quite so 
much of a heroine. But my most ardent 4 
admirer was ill in bed, and I was thankful 
for that.” 


3 1 6 The Girls at Mt. Morris 

He laughed. How different she was from 
Zay. Had it been her quiet restricted sphere, 
her struggle with the life she had known in 
dreams and the bald every day experiences? 
Zay laughed at the favors and pleasures 
showered upon her but she would not have 
been the bright, merry girl without them. 
Would the gravity of the one help to tone 
down the mercurial temperament of the 
other? Oh, it was so good to have them both! 
Could he ever be thankful enough? And he 
forgave the poor woman in her grave. 

Zaidee chatted awhile with Aunt Kate who 
fancied she understood all the thoughts of the 
young girl’s heart. It was not strange she 
should be a little jealous, but she had more 
gifts to attract the world with, and the pendu- 
lum of her parents’ love would swing back 
presently. Then the child said good-night 
and went to her white bed, but the sleepiness 
had gone by and she was wondering about 
herself. 

Would she come to love this strange sister 
who had been thrust upon her as it were. 
Truly, she did not know. If she kept the 
old love of them all, the first love, no one 
could quite climb up to that place in their 
hearts and if Marguerite could be content 


Out of Her Loyalty 317 

with the second place — that really was hers, 
she would be sweet and gracious and share 
honors with her. 

Poor child! She did not understand what 
love really meant ; that it was to dole out the 
overplus of one’s life when one was in the 
mood, or withhold when one chose, was, as 
yet, her definition of it. What can an over- 
indulged child know of the grand motives it 
takes a life-time to learn? 

Marguerite looked out on the shining 
night with its tender hush, with no wind 
stirring, no sound anywhere. A new life 
unrolled before her; an illumination and com- 
prehension of the past that would be builded 
in the years to come. Whatsoever was lovely 
and of good report was to be the foundation 
stones of the temple God had bidden her to 
rear. Would she learn to be lovely in feature 
and expression from the inward light of the 
soul — the lamp God had set there? 

Yet the new life had brought grander duties 
than mere self advancement, and Marguerite 
prayed that she might fulfill them faithfully. 





